There is a word for being pulled apart in a black hole – it’s called, spaghettification. The ridiculousness of the word is matched only by the violence of it’s action. The atoms that make up your body are pulled away from each other, stretched into space, as your limbs, eyes, ears and toes are condensed in a process of liquefaction that funnels your bones through an astronomical drain. The gravitational pull of the black hole is so much that you unravel. Shoulders that once felt sun and skin that once grew callouses in the summer are ripped from the tendons that connect your outer to your inner. Fingernails are stretched from their beds and extend into an infinite abyss. Your heart, that organ that pulses systolic/diastolic life –  the one that was broke back in 2008 and was just recently put back together again – is torn into a smattering of arteries and veins all spewing forth amongst the stars, painting them in red blood cells against a black cosmological canvass.

What a ridiculous word for such a terrible, scary, awful, invasive, visceral and life-altering thing. But, then again, we also use the word love.


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