Jan 27, 2009

Stellar I would call you, my everything
I would call you.
You were as solid
as moonrock under my feet and as bright as my sun above my head.

I have learned of constellations and disasters,
I have learned of orbits and gravity,
but no sun moon or cycle deters my orbit around,
my gravitational pull,
to you.

You were my Venus.
The pressure there would crush me to the ground,
I would happily collapse bearing
the weight of You
and your shaky talk,
your emotionless smile,
your long skinny fingers tending to mending
heat damage and air quality.

We do not breathe on Venus.
Regardless of air supply, we
spend too much time holding breath,
holding words between tongue and cheek.

But you were no Venus
Not solid
No toxicity
Never pressured.

You were more of a Jupiter.
There was no landing,
no earth beneath my feet,
no solidity to speak of.

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