~
In the days of Jupiter
during the age of
lovely intimate things

the abundant rain giving life
to a lactating mother

bloodletting
cloudburst

her magic ocean
and incipient seabright moon
together at the center of creation
~

you scream like a cooped up witch
saturn’s screeches soft and scary.
in your manic delirium
in the riptide rushing
the silence is painful
and painless
and fierce.
mercurial girl
who washes her hands
in the sand
moves with the moon.
you stray from the constellations
and get devoured by black holes.
fickle flight.
you dive in the atmosphere
bound in the sky.
the planets isolated
abandoned and forsaken.
translating the sounds cascading
from my mouth.
the stars are so plain
and staple and monotonous
they look like your mistakes
that never give accountability.
you suffer in sound.
you shrink into dust.
without your meaning
carved inside history books.
in your total incoherence
in the motionless galaxy
the dawn has no meaning
like the cells
that make up your existence.
like saturn you scream
a moribund planet
waiting to be rescued
by the fragments
that make you a wasted
futile shell of inconsequentiality.
like saturn you shriek
like a banshee.
you’re dying.