The General Theory

I am gravity.

I can't be bothered
Every time a comet
Blasts into my surface,

Finds itself
In sudden orbit,
Doomed to end in fire
In my atmosphere.

I once wore guilt.
That's far too heavy.
I am only breathing,
Being,

Bending space and time
By mass and energy,
Attracting everything to me.

Do people throw up rocks
And curse?
Do they expect apologies
From the burning sun?

- 6/9/26

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