some songs are sung

when love scurries
towards the edge
a fist fails to catch the wind
the cliff-bound, faraway cries
drowns in itself as it
at the laughing sky–I look up

to meet the night’s eyes
tears soft as a lonely feather
fall like kisses on my cheek
the blur of starlight,
though fractured
by life’s lecture
once again
chooses to be brighter–and know that

though my throat dries, parched
from the pale laborious singing
that uses me up sometimes
it anchors me down
like gravity anchors me
anchors me down
sustains a breath, so true
a thriving beat grouped in twos
in, out; in, out
and in
a song in reverse,
heard or unheard
it sings its way back
back to my starlit soul



our existence is but a
tiny temporal dust
floating in the river of time
in which stars have breathed
their first and their last;

we belong to a single heartbeat
an endless cosmic dream
that we attempt to measure
with lifetimes—and we fail
for it is a dream too vast,
and too deep to be real

so it is decided

so it is decided
when the stars realign
themselves and
the galaxies rearrange
through spontaneous
expulsion: that
is the day I will forgive
you, that is the day
I will love you again;
until then, keep

if stars are just stars

if stars are just stars
unmapped by constellations,
mythology, and astronomers
do they weave their own stories
and their own destinies?
do they live and die silence?
as they shine
without a name, without history
are they still stars
or are they eyes
forever opening and closing
opening and closing


Starry Eyes

Inspired by Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion

your face, the nape
of your neck as you look
over your shoulder,
and your smile, a soft,
glorious wonder

in silence I behold you
as light ripples through your hair
a river of winking stars
and in your eyes shines
the entire universe


the river of phantoms speaks
through clusters of interstellar dust;
it pulses with the shining
of its own language; moves slowly
with density, speed–fast
as dreams are formed, true
as dreams are dreamed