The Story of a Superlova
by Flavius Covaci | April 2, 2023
Step into the moonlight, beacon boys, the hour has come
for us to write. Leave those starless shadows at once; come
feel my pulse; the corners are no longer yours – dance,
and look into my eyes. Take some time, come sit by me.
Let us tease infinity: if we can dance the night away on
Saturn’s rings (two daring, flaring astronauts), will our
whispers echo in the chambers of the universe? I want
to be drowned out by Mars-Madonna, Pluto-P!nk. Tonight
I will refuse to think. We’ll sip coffee made of gold
dust turned confetti in our mouths, let us end the slumber
party with a solar-system-pillow-fight! We’ll rewrite Orion’s
dream in our incandescent neon ink. Now take me skinny-
dipping in this cosmic drink, or better yet, jive with me
along the galactical brink.
Let constellations slingshot our imagination into the
molten, cosmic core – make them quake, make them
want more. O’ loosen up my asteroid belt, throw me
on your Jovian bed; do away with swallowing
all the things we leave unsaid. I’ll craft for you a satellite
bouquet if only you’d agree to marry me tonight,
on this Milky Way! The moon shall be our witness,
the sun invited, too. We’ll have its rays for wedding
cake and gulp it down in two. Galaxies will clap abound
with ecstasy – it is not every day their choral voice
is raised to harmony. We will not ask the gods
for blessings (I’ve all that in you) so it remains
for us to simply yell the delicious I do!
I love you I do, adieu
Swirling in this clay teacup of spit and sand, we were
merely individual stars waiting to explode, to expand. We
become embryonic stardust, nebular, until the centre
calls us out of the darkness to coalesce again. ∎
Words by Flavius Covaci.
Photography by Coco Cottam.