Dodging the draw and drag
of a black hole
our lens telescopes
through space
to fix the final,
hypnotic dance
of a dying star,
its two glowing clusters
flaming apart,
an embryonic
cell dividing,
but with the future reversed,
its white heat shivering
in the cold of it,
needing our eyes only to verify
its dark energy,
we are star stuff
contemplating the stars.