I Left My Heart at Terminal Tower

He told me to transform, and so I did. I became a satellite burning up in the atmosphere. Even when we were apart, I left my lungs in his room so I could smell him. Never mind all that.

I listened to the sounds of the train, passing and passing, my skin cells dividing, peeling back in the dark, balls of white hot gas and debris, veins unwinding and untangling into a single line, leading from me to Wyatt, red light fibers connecting his aorta to my superior vena cava.

We rotated, umbilical tether twisting in the vacuum of space, tumbling toward each other in the dark with the stars around us already dead.