Those We Left Behind, and Other Sacrifices

by Brandon Applegate

A hole in the universe in the shape of a girl through which I could see the paper on which we all are drawn, the pen strokes crawling up her form like scratches on an old film.

I am tethered by a speck of dust. It is a speck whittled away from a rock which was part of the original matter that exploded from the instantaneous point of perfect, unstable near-nothing that preceded our universe’s creation.

I have played with forces I do not understand. I have toyed with strange words in books that were not written for me. Or for any man.