every tiny star in every tiny cell
breathes a galaxy of yes
but the brain—
solid, strong, stubborn
boxy and grey in its logic
slams the gavel
and vetoes every swirling universe
it’s a crime scene
with tapes of red and blue suited
guards, covering with pale sheets
the ruined, shattered
slippery-with-barbed-wire
remnant of world wonders
the reason you can never hold on
to slick words, thoughts
you can only dream of
is because i have claimedÂ
and gathered them all for myself
as to not to be spoken
i think about my name
wrapped on the inside of her lip
tracing every ivory tooth
tattooed in every vein, artery
in his heart
filled up like balloons
to burst on the sharp corners of my words
scatter my letters and dreams to the wind
when they think of me
in a sky of pitted stars and fragments
of asteroids and planets long gone by
fragile unimportant and tiny
earth, breath, single upon single
individual worries and thoughts
“i wanted to mean something”
andromeda spins on
the waterfall took your hair
wrapped it around its fingers, tugged
pulled it into frizz
while you grappled with bare rock
smooth, untouched, slick
as you grinned a thousand suns
down upon the rock pool
she curls her hands into my waist
ripping scars and stretching skin
whispering soft assurances with pale red lips
“do you see them
be like them
they’ll love you this way”
the same way she did when i was young
with burnished gold hair
and red pinprick scars
i wonder if you miss the same things i do
curling up in the curve of your side
limbs askew, comfortable, laugh
wrapping around like no blanket could
because you didn’t care
about my body, my marks, or how i looked
when i woke up
because you looked the same
and we were the same
soft assurances of beauty and perfect skin
i think of it now and again
in times of weakness, when
sorrow peers over my shoulders
your voice, reassuring me
you can do this
