To Die a Brilliant Star

My dreams are too quick; they escape me, like fireflies from the net. But I must dream of you; I wake each morning the whole of me humming, tuned to an alien frequency, and singing along to sweet music, just out of reach. My skin, a suddenly volatile element, as if one small touch could shatter this fragile existence; a Supernova explosion, shooting my atoms back to the sun. Oh, what stories they'd tell on their way: to have lived, and to die such a brilliant star.