Member-only story
Stardust Beautiful
A Poem
my skin is a map of constellations,
each speck a piece of myth made real,
and love knows me in this space
where self and sensation mingle.
the earth tells its story in caverns
and swatches of land torn asunder
as wind and rain war together
against all that is locked in time.
but the sky above is so wide —
its blue is a maw, never-ending —
and your hand in mine sings true
of promises whispered like prayers.
the men of today rush to space,
as if the planets above will save them
when they cannot save themselves
even with the wealth of millions.
we cannot escape the tide —
and I trace the places I’ll never see,
like the nova exploding into being
or the sun blinking out one last time.
today, I linger on endings so many
and tonight I will see the moon,
sentinel and solitary and sanct —
because tomorrow will be no guarantee.
