Come a fortnight of great coincidences and unnerving cosmic significance. Of a thousand piece puzzle coming together like a Byzantine mosaic or a trail set ablaze by a night sky of shooting stars.

Her heart is an adorned catacomb. It is an unawakened spectacle of turbulent potential energy: immobile and unmoving.

But she is oil and youwater.

Her way is an aerial firework of black powder. Magnesium. Iron. Multibreak Shells bursting into a complex explosion in acrobatic motions across the heavens.

Her eyes take in captives like the deadly dance of moths to a flame.

She is the eye of the storm while you are caught in between heavy rains and fright and terror.

Her tongue speaks in an ancient glossolalia. In chants. In mantras. In cryptic depth.

She has the world figured out and youunderstand nothing of it.
She is a massive mass of hydrogen and helium, and in a swift spectacular supernova explosion, the death of her will consume all brilliance into an indefinite blackness.


digital art by Karl Elnas
text by Anna Miguel

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© The Panagtagbo. Base codes by Fearne. Tweaks by AMC