I sat on the edge of the lake
on the biggest rock by the shore.
Midnight was the clock,
starry the sky,
frozen was the earth.
I looked up from below and saw Orion's Belt.
The stars on his hilt,
to the twinkling lights of his bow.
I could see them.
I could see all of them.
In that moment, I remembered something.
A poem he said he'd written
for me.
He'd called it Orion's Belt.
I remember what it was like
to be his,
but I remember so much else now.
He's a liar.
How much of what he told her
was true?
All of it?
Maybe;
none of it.

--J