You are my
favorite,

the first

I could pick out,

among far off lights
in chaos.

You shone to me
in Strawn, Texas
when I was a child
with my grandfather
on his deer lease.

You were the last
I saw before bed,

You were still there
when we woke
in the early morning.

You are a hunter too,
your bow pointed forth,
and sword
hung low,
like the gods
used the stars
to sketch something
inappropriate,
like the sky was their science
journal from
middle school.

You followed me
like the bear.

I saw you
on Fall nights
in college,
on my back
in my backyard
with burnt ash
on my T-shirt,
through an
unfocused
tequila telescope.

But now, in this city,
I don't see you
as often, or maybe
I've seen you the wrong
way all along.

Maybe like we see the world
from the floor down,
we see you hunting the bear
when in mirrored reality, you run
from the beast

and I can't blame you
because we all
do,

or maybe
you're not even there
anymore,
we just don't know it
yet, because as fast as things
change, like
youth,
seasons,
perceptions,

Maybe you've burnt out,

Maybe the bear caught you
swallowed you whole
into his black-

stomach.

Maybe I should
start running
so he doesn't
catch me too.

Outside in the cold
darkness, neck craned
toward Orion’s belt
waiting for streaks
across the sky.
Leonids passing
by, your name
orbits in my mouth
like planetary moons;
shooting stars
reflecting
the past
in your
eyes.

beholding
the tipping
Big Dipper,
with its
dangling
handle,
traverse a
midwinter
northern sky
rising
in concert
with a
steadfast
sword
wielding
Orion,
mooring
the southern
firmament,
I stand
atop a
splotch
of black
macadam,
straddling the
equidistant
expanse of
all
ascending
celestial
spheres

Music Selection
Charlie Parker
Estrellita

Oakland
1/23/15
jbm

I take showers to brush off the chill you leave behind when you forget I exist.
The water doesn't hug me quite as tightly as you do,
nor keep me quite as warm
but as I imagine your hold enveloping me while I let the droplets caress my skin,
I feel whole again...
if only for a little while.

The water is getting colder now and you begin to fade away from me.
I just wish you'd stay a little longer,
love me a little harder,
hold me a little stronger
and I beg you please...
Please don't forget my name.

The water is getting even colder now and I no longer feel your grasp.
I keep hoping for you to linger on my skin
but you've already gone again.
Please wear me as a pendant,
tell me you'll never forget my name.

I'm beginning to hold myself and its just not the same.

I'm so sick of being broken and you have all my pieces to put me back together in all the correct places. You keep trying to put them in on someone else's vessel and it isn't working no matter how hard you chisel in to try and make it fit. That piece doesn't belong there, not even just one bit.

Orion,
Orion,
Out there over the horizon,
Take me to the Pleiades,
That is what I plead to thee,
Show me those whispers floating in the sea,
Bright light touching both you and me.

the skin on my wrists tingle from the shadow of your fingertips tracing. you follow the curves and indentions of flesh, hesitantly running the pad of your thumb across the stars inked onto my skin, until you finally look up to met my eyes.
i see so many galaxies spinning, stories of untold hurt, pain, redemption, change. i begin to wonder if you can read my soul like i can yours.
my mind drifts to the idea of orion, sitting in the sky, watching over you at night, knowing you are safe. i exhale -

you smile.

"Honestly? I'd just cover that up", he says

Orion's not moving. Stars don't move.
They may die, they may dim, they may traverse galaxies
Change position in the night sky with the seasons
Give me one. good. reason.
To cover up my compass home,
The one good thing, the one beautiful thing,
On this scarred and wretched body?

"We'll put Orion somewhere else, start over"

You're not my mother, ripping out a new piercing
Locking the door on a daughter and her father
Drinking and dating and thinking "start over"
My skin is just my skin, the moles and ink
And decisions are mine to live in
How dare you claim yourself an artist,
yet break down your clientele, your canvas

So Orion's not the problem, sir
It's a debauched attitude toward station
When I follow the stars tonight, I will tell them
Needles have no consideration