Photo from Pixabay / Licensed under Creative Commons

What is your favorite constellation?

I feel like there’s another life in here

Written between lines

Of diamonds your mother wore once,

Carried on her fingers and


You asked me to look up

And choose.

Boyish laugh,

So light, like when the

Sun hits your brown eyes

They warm my palms.

Remember when I cupped

Your cheeks

As you cried to disappear?

You are still here

I have a secret

I do not have a favorite.

The sky looks like

Like bleeding watercolors

In the mason jar beside my desk.

I could’ve sworn you were somebody else

I know you as if you have been the scar on my hip for the past 18 years

I know you somehow

As if maybe every time I looked up to search for constellations I was never truly meant to find anything

I was there to breathe in all of its brash wishes

The kind that were never answered because they were seemingly so small,

They fell through the jasper stones of heaven’s floor

Down to our little purgatory

Where the rain hits your eyelashes in the most elegant way

I forget to bite away my laughter

Because sometimes the noises vanish

Into quiet nights.

The stars really do gather them,

Hunting for something divine

Something glorious

I had wished for the same thing

Three years in a row

And it never came true

I wonder if I secretly know how quickly my wishes could collapse

That they probably never made it to the star in time

And somebody else felt its edges first.

I know not to rely too heavily on the home of hopes

And nostalgia I buried within you

But I have never felt such a devotion to cause.

The freckles on your nose

Look like scribbles when I connect them all with my fingertip

There is absolutely no clear picture to be created by any of this

But I am content,

I look up and I see you,

Yes, my love,

I am content.