Nothing held within me 
but a small stone—no,
a planet, a bloody pulse 
keeping pace with the energy 
of its galaxy, where space
is limited to a cavity 
of light,
and still, life 
cannot seem
to find it, never
sees beyond
the blindness 
of a velvet voice,
a warm sound, dark and lovely
as it says stay—quietly and
with enough pressure 
that the stone begins to fissure—
not yet.