here lies asteria.
and her falling stars —
they crash faster than they rise
here inside this starless chest —
a foreign place,
a refugee camp —
all leaden lungs and a leaden sky.

here she sleeps
under a blanket of nightfall one might mistake for the golden fleece,
but then again,
alchemy is a long, forgotten lover
all bag of tricks,
and sleight of hand,
all doves and swords
and a fickle heart.

so what of her?
what of a lonely girl?
what of her history and all her scattered bones?

what of a fallen Titaness?
what of this diaspora of all her dying stars?
what of this sepulcher for all her nameless stars?

here lies asteria
with her unbaptized stars —
here, where the dark side of the moon
goes home.
here, where wisterias and howling wolves
and stifled screams
go to die.

here inside this starless chest,
these pallid lips,
this leaden skin of mine.

here lies asteria. here lies her host.
and this is how a black hole sighs.