Nightclub in Heaven

Lost love meets urban legend in this poem about nights out in Margate.

Image Credit: 
Public Domain

there used to be a nightclub up there,

suspended in heaven

where the stars would dance
like we did
synced in binary rotations with the planets
twirling around our hips
as we dreamt of music…

gravity wins
and we each tear life from one another
shoot solar flares
across the dining room table
where the only thing more beautiful
than one dying star
is two

technicolour quasars of our hearts
      dense and heavy
reluctantly watching the celestial dance
as stars move in the galaxy behind your eyelids

and we can see our whole future
      mapped out
in the corona of two black holes
and dying
in the nightclub up there,

in heaven.

Connor Sansby is a Margate-based writer, editor, poet and publisher through his super-indie Whisky & Beards publishing label.

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