we’ve journeyed beyond Heaven’s jurisdiction. There are no
angels to ferry our prayers onward, so they just fall at our
feet and gasp like landed fish. When we wake, newborn sins are
waiting beside our cots—lost, scared, weeping sulfurous tears.
They can’t be comforted. They can’t be forgiven. We just kiss
their horned foreheads and blow them out the airlock.
Even worse,

there is no succor to be found in the sterile cathedrals of
towering nebulae nor wonder to be savored in the glorious
blasphemies that are exploding stars and the endless catacombs
of the universe are just the undercroft to a Temple that was
burnt down to the size of a blue-green mote an eternity ago and
we’ve now exiled ourselves from that sanctuary; in our ignorance
we’ve abandoned the absolution offered by the last remnant of
the True Firmament.
God, there used to be light.
This all used to be Light!!

This isn’t an S.O.S. Don’t send help.
Never send anyone again.