Take to the Days a Fist of Starlight

Forward and forging within, I learn to fall singular,
merge the fullness of every flame

after posthumous flame,

ever submerged by a world so ample
in its need to be emptied,

so abundant in all of its absence.

These the affairs of a vacant life and all that comes
with a debt of mobility,

censoring of grief in small rooms.

I am blown into a forced healing, no longer
braced to withstand combustion of a cure.

Call it Saturn conjunct with Pluto.
Call it mandated age in this Earth’s lineage.

I fight the urge to be zeroed,
stay friend and mother to myself.

Reach for the time to rebuild,
I take less from knowing

and more to meld from these days
a new theology for love,

a personal cathedral, songs of our shared scarcity.

It may be that we are stolen of each other,
only then do we seek ourselves.

Only then a fortune for the wild
returning to its virginity,

sincere and green
of what the soil will bequeath.•