i am but another suckling child to a star-shaped **** galaxies spread along my sutures. my skull is a planetarium in memory of you, but i’m often unsure if you notice.
my vision is blurry.
bad feelings collect like dirt in high-traffic areas, i’ve been told, and i see so much. maybe it’s time to cleanse my corneas, drizzle salt under my eyelids to remove the layers of sleep and dust and hurt that the world has left in my care. then, when i burn from dryness, your cool water will nourish me, clear me of the clouds.
i lay down and let you paint my body in contrasting colors, white dwarfs to red giants, and nothing could ever be better. i remain forever in your arms.