lightly & DEEPLY

for a long time, i would grab a blanket with me before i went to look at the stars.

 

maybe the answers to all those questions get stuck in our throats end up in that dark room between the stars. there must not be much space up there.

 

Whenever there was a wind, i knew i had the blanket to rescue me. i wouldn’t have feel the discomfort for long. 

 

Back when my teeth wiggled & my hair straggled, i called the stars darkness eaters. i still like to think of them that way. i like to think of people on earth that way too. eating darkness to make constellations of what we’d like to see.

 

i would be warm with my blanket. but not always happy. 

 

Maybe it’s all just light with a slice of darkness saran wrapped tight right across us. if we try hard & don’t look back down, we can prick a hole. it must be frustrating to prick a hole in darkness without anyone knowing it was you. making beauty for the world to notice- or for skyscrapers to wash away. a gallery of mona lisas in a room of running 20 minutes late.

 

i wasn't sure why i wasn't happy. There i was— galaxies dazzling me as their sole audience. 

 

but maybe its the other way around. maybe someone from the side of the Lights pricks little holes into our saran wrapped globe. just to peek in. i wonder if they look for long. 

 

then it hit me. i don’t want comfort. i want to feel the cold hit me like a friend who knows the future. i want to be distracted by the great what is. 

 

there’s this beauty about darkness that i think we forget. we focus on these stars- eating the darkness. what a sacrificial lamb darkness is.. to be the canvas of beauty & get blamed for existing. being the fear of children. all the while, the beauty would be invisible without his grand contrast. 

 

so now, i don’t grab a blanket when i go look at the stars.  i invite the wind. i invite the cold. i invite the wild unknown to find a resting place on my bones, if only for the darkness to have a night of peace.