Comet's Breath

In the silence of the empty room a comet breathes.
It chooses home among absent walls, without haste.
The walls become constellations, the dust turns to wind.
Memory ignites in light, thin threads of remembrance.
Extinguished objects awaken, small planets on the breeze.
Every corner holds a map that shines, invisible.
The comet’s breath settles upon the threshold.
The room remains home, now full of light.
Memory becomes the light that stays, silent and alive.