Stellar Remnant

I want to write about astrophysics
so I make myself a telescope and observe
myself.
I learn about stars
how the cores collapse
under the weight of their own gravity
imploding
caving in upon themselves
in a miraculous combustion event.

My body feels like
luminous plasma sucked inside
itself — ephemeral, glowing.
There is a feeling right before it happens
an ominous rumble
a light fluttering of paper-winged moths
caged within the thoracic cavity
a beating sound leaving
a string of echoes as the sonority
is carried outward dissolving
into impregnable nonexistence.
The rupture sounds like ceilings
seen from different angles
and cracks in the window casements
only noticed for a moment
just before my eyes close
and everything turns to bright light
and debris
then disappears.