The Language of Physics Between Two Bodies
Two stars dance about gravitationally; a beauty,
she says, in abstraction. Art in motion and in the
moments leading up to death; There’s something
beautiful, she says, in the movement of a thing
before it destroys itself. This happened somewhere
between three-and-a-half and six billion years ago,
and we’re just now able to know it—able, at least,
to see it—and those two dispositions somehow seem
at odds. The difference between seeing and knowing
has something to do with depth, belief, and
intimacy. How long has it been since we were truly
understood? When was the last time we could say
we were known, and have we ever loved? What
was it that we as stardust were here to do but dance?
Kiel M. Gregory lives in Sackets Harbor, NY, and studies English literature, philosophy, and creative writing at SUNY Oswego. His prose and verse appear in Lips, Paterson Literary Review, Furrow, Gandy Dancer, Great Lake Review, Black River Review, and elsewhere. In addition to writing, his interests include skydiving, cooking, and reading classic and contemporary speculative fiction. Connect with him online @kiel.mg.