i slowly cave in on myself
and the sky smells of falling stars—
i can taste it, leaking in through
the cracks. i ascend, like a hot
air balloon, my body filled
with moonlight, the dust
falling off the trail of a comet.
the night is dripping paint,
navy blue and black, the ravens
are cutting holes in the air and
neptune shines through, a minty
frost, ice and starlight. my feet
are far above the clouds—an
icarus floating in the dark,
dark sky, and i reach for cygnus
—no more light pollution here.
lyra plucks its golden strings
and the moon sings a lullaby,
sweet and slow like drops
of mercury. and there, as
stardust glows through my skin,
replaces sore organs with light
and swallows each aching bit,
i sleep.
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 2:49 AM UTC
i slowly cave in on myself
and the sky smells of falling stars—
i can taste it, leaking in through
the cracks. i ascend, like a hot
air balloon, my body filled
with moonlight, the dust
falling off the trail of a comet.
the night is dripping paint,
navy blue and black, the ravens
are cutting holes in the air and
neptune shines through, a minty
frost, ice and starlight. my feet
are far above the clouds—an
icarus floating in the dark,
dark sky, and i reach for cygnus
—no more light pollution here.
lyra plucks its golden strings
and the moon sings a lullaby,
sweet and slow like drops
of mercury. and there, as
stardust glows through my skin,
replaces sore organs with light
and swallows each aching bit,
i sleep.
(g.c.) 1/5/17
