like a matador before the bull, waiting
under the sun, like a gladiator speckled
with his spoils, dropping his blade:
i wrapped myself around you like a ribbon,
my first and last thought, my star
i had no sense, like a baby.
i watched hot water run down
your back in the shower,
my body void of thought.
i shut my eyes and saw
venus shining like a star,
frowning, looking downward.
i never knew until years later
in still silences like these
what every word meant behind its meaning,
like dreaming of your last sunrise
i keep my lunar calendar in times of peril
how strange it is to marry in white
why not red, like roses?
to stave off sleep, i imagine knocking
on your father’s door
as if he owed me reparations for my innocence,
and the way his life drained instantly
from his eyes when he heard
the sun smashed into the earth
right at the spot where his daughter
saw me smashing the glove compartment.
a star is only the memory of a star,
the redness of the sun only a glittering
distraction from the poison of fire
against bare skin.
speckled with the universe,
every star comes through me now,
and i grew to know my place
in relation to the gods
while i was driving at night,
watching the headlights stream outwards,
sensing your presence among the trees.