Sex in Space

would be impermissibly awkward. Would be, according 
to Nikki Giovanni in On Being with Krista Tippett,
probably nonexistent. You’d think, we know how to
operate a spaceship up there, why not our bodies.
No it’s not only gravity that keeps us from tearing

apart. It’s our infidelity to the earth too, the nothingness 
that brings, even when we’re buried inside of it. How
is it that something can be both ever-expanding and vacant. 
A doctor tells you, Relax. You’ll have fun in the dark.

You remember that a woman you loved vacationed
to the moon one night and left the man who slept there 
yearning for another crater. You see him famished, 
black hole undercover. Pirouetting to nihility. You say

maybe you will. So long as you can land on a star one 
million light years from now. So long as you can watch 
humanity’s extinction and pretend like it’s happening
in real time, like your love could’ve possibly made it that far.

Lily Levin (she/they) is a junior and undergraduate English major. Lily began writing poetry in high school and has five upcoming poems in Eunoia Review. Moreover, her journalism and opinion pieces have been featured in The Duke Chronicle, Buzzfeed, Queen City Nerve, and NC Policy Watch. They are so humbled to have their poem included in Moist Poetry Journal.