Quasar's poem takes a piece of cosmology and turns it into a quiet, lonely picture. The speaker describes a universe expanding so fast that distant light can never reach us. We end up stranded, cut off behind an "event horizon," with no way to send a message out or receive one. Our own small island is the Andromeda and Milky Way galaxies, circling each other, their light shifting blue as they approach, while everything beyond stretches into red and then fades to black.
The speaker's tone is calm and factual, almost like a science lesson, but the feeling underneath is isolation and loss. The aside "if there's anyone else / and if we are still around" hints at real unease about being alone. The ending builds this through repetition: "the vacuum blankets more, the vacuum blackens more." The universe is then described as having eyes that are put out, and it goes blind. The mood is hushed, vast, and a little sad.