The colour of infinity

I am made of plastic sheets,

a polaroid if you will.

My layers catch the light,

stopping it from roaming free.

It leaves a deceivingly attractive chemical

trail that reflects the exterior:

freestanding love but, too, anguish;

and beauty is being withheld.

But what could be more beautiful

than a picture of the world that lugs us?

Perhaps the void;

the eventual eternity

that inhabits the very core.

For everyone has it,

and we are everyone -

interconnected;

so why must we hide this marvel

from our siblings and ourselves?

I’m happy to know it,

because in the void is an opening;

in empty space

light doesn’t dissipate.

No matter how far it travels,

when a light wave does not

interact with ignorance and tangibility,

it propagates in all directions;

letting the universe inside me become visible.

When our cast of plastic is finally removed

the void inside

me

and us

will illuminate the colour of infinity.