There's a language in the dark that no telescope can read a silence older than the stars a hunger without a need I've been standing at the edge of everything I know watching galaxies unravel in a slow, invisible undertow And I can't measure what I feel it's wider than a light-year closer than I'd like to admit It's the space between the breathing and the next uncertain breath the pause before the universe remembers it exists the hollow of the hourglass where time forgets to fall the space between is everything and nothing, after all There are planets no one's named yet drifting, cold and slow and I wonder if they feel it too the weight of being alone every atom in my body was once a dying star so why does all that distance still feel so close, so far And I can't map the way it moves it bends around the edges of everything I thought I knew It's the space between the breathing and the next uncertain breath the pause before the universe remembers it exists the hollow of the hourglass where time forgets to fall the space between is everything and nothing, after all Maybe emptiness is just a shape that light moves through maybe I've been searching outward for something always true maybe the between isn't lonely maybe it just is maybe I've been the space between and never knew The space between... the space between... is everything and nothing after all
