and the creature in the abyss stared back

Was it all a dream, or did my sky boy truly have the heavens inside his chest? Was it a miracle? Maybe, or maybe miracles are simply truths we cannot comprehend. But I think you were a miracle, in your own little way. My child of light, my comet-catcher, my star-shaper, my alchemist of agony and awe. You were beyond me, just out of my reach: a horizon, a black hole. For what happens when you stare at the abyss and the abyss stares back, but instead of staring down, you’re looking up? What happens when the abyss is more than just that: what happens when oblivion is not an idea, but a person? I think I know what happens now, but I won’t tell. How could I? Some things may always be too much for words like ours. Just let them be.