Glorious Light

I was a photon once.

Created in a terrible hot furnace, deep within a star they call the Sun.

I was a photon once.

And when after a million years I finally managed to escape the surface, I lit up with joy, because I knew you were barely eight minutes away.

I was a photon once.

On a beautiful summer morning, after traveling with dizzying speed across vast pastures of dark space, I met you, landing on your left cheek. What a glorious way to die.