I've died a thousand times on my way back to Saturn, with mirrors as my teacher and the moon as my estranged lover. The path is solitary, long and winding, as I spiral inwards– I expand as the universe intends me to. A twinkle at the end of the tunnel, but I will not chase. She will speak to me if I listen closely, she will bestow me sight if I close my eyes, she will hear me when I whisper, she will hold me if I fall apart.