Event Horizon

You arrived like a rupture in time, some semantic glitch in the fabric, sparking where there was nothing… a rupture before the rapture. I think—no, I know— you were watching before I saw you. The air bent first, whispers in the pressure, like the universe leaning in to hear my last rational thought. Then—impact. Your voice, a blade of static slicing through the hush, laughter curled at the edges like the flame of Prometheus— your hand not quite touching, but gravity-tight, tightening. You orbit too close, little devils of you perched at the curve of my jaw, whispers in my ear like Eris at a wedding, golden apple gleaming between your fingers, asking nothing—offering everything— dares dressed as questions. “Why hesitate?” Your presence is the Big Bang in reverse— not an explosion outward, but a collapse inward— atoms realigning to your will. You speak, and my spine remembers that I was built to bow. Charon must know my name by now. A coin pressed to my tongue, your palm sealing my fate— like Persephone’s pomegranate kiss. I was spontaneous once, but now I am simply reactive, a particle caught in your chain reaction. I should run. Instead, I step closer. And the Nyx of us smiles.