i am
but a
dearling,
a darling
Capricorn;
with his
tenderlings
not
yet
budding.
year
of the
yearling,
year-long
yearning for
space walks.
rendering
the DNA,
raveled
into ringlets
dangled
in frozen
fragility
of pearl
bracelets.
intertwined
like
a necklace;
the love
my parents
shared.
at least
one time.
destined
to be
well traveled;
nestled
in a
blanket of
pine needles
& honey
i reach
out from
earth’s cradle;
longing to
find a
super
nova
more
special
than any
we have
gleaned
before.
one
that will
last past
the
collapse
of our
æther.
chestnut
shell
rocking.
this station
of the universe
is too small now,
we must go,
now
.


Stephen Hawking
hypothesized
in
one of
his usual
bouts
of miraculous
syllabic
tongue
twisters
that
the universe
has an
end,
just
as all
living
creations
have a
beginning.
blazing
bravery
we are
living
beings.
we will
scoff
in the
face of
clocks &
hypothetical
hypochondriacs
will quiver.
photogenic
phylogenetics
captured
by the
lenses
of dying
Keppler,
zipping like
ice skates
past
Jupiter.
Dance
around
the rings
of Saturn,
& suicide
our weak
in honor
of Cassini


.
Or stay
day dreaming
here upon
the heavenly
rains that
rapture the
African
savannas.
But i,
i will
try to
forge
paths for
distances
as far
out as
forevers.
May the
future
generations
of humans
make
it farther…
. . .may they
be the
answer
to my
ever
burning
question:
Is

there

intelligent

life

here on Earth?
.
.
.
∗s⁞x pm

The Simpsons 1989-2020

for fifty days i fasted,

knowing no-thing,

save the retching of my own flesh,

save the pit of my own stomach.

*

for your arrival safely we sold

our cattle, fashioned a festival

our first kiss –a first sip of wine

on the day break of Pentecost,

at last my fast was over.

*

we fashioned circles of precious metals

and strung them around each other’s

vena amori, declared forever in a vacuum

proclaimed endurance upon the coming

event horizon of time itself.

*

space swells with the ancient ruins

of men and women who shed tears

tracing the constellation trails

from one end of an ocean to another

filling the void of voiceless oceans

with metaphoric rapture and appetite

for adventure.

*

Charles, the smell of desert sand swims

firmly between your pores,

your body warm as the land

cut like mountains

between your biceps

where my head lays

basking in the moments

you are here.

*

how i adore you so.

*

proclaim eternity

enter matrimony – eyes wide open

place his heart upon a pedestal

let no slanderous word nor malicious canticle

seduce his woefully mortal heart.

*

roots and petals of calendula

poultice to quell the spasms

you take me in my blood

and i take you in my arms

when the nightmares hurt

worse than the back pain.

*

you remind me that even in the winter

the carmine-colored cardinal coos

and whistles, awakens the trees and fills

the cold world with sweet song.

*

i’m unraveled in your high collar,

blue and burned in a freak fire,

raptured by the desert

nothing is forever, we know,

yet everything is possible.

*

there is no going back.

*

on this river of time

except maybe we’ll escape

the event horizon burn

as radiation about

the black hole’s radio halo.

*

dying light is a subjective notion

when you limit every poetic persuasion

to the limits of the human eye.

*

we weave honey, orange citrus, & marmalade

into spacetime tapestry,

devote each second

as the present is our own reward

the art of being in love,

the pleasure of being alive.

*

the future is a metaphor –

as in calling the ocean endless

naming riptides undertow

we: new and other molecules

blur into water, two bodies

one brackish soul.

*

six pm *after easter

Aladdin 1992

i.
i had a dream
there were polaroids of us.
developing sunken
and strewn across
my pink comforter.

(a soft cosmos.)

i saw how happy we were,
you tall and in your glasses,
arms around me and hunched
to envelope your frame
around mine.

behold; my real smile.
not where my controlled lips
stiff; cover my gum line,
to feign the sort of “elationship”
i experienced only when
we would speak…


ii.
shut the curtains.
i don’t even want
the sun to filter in
through the fabric
& change the tone
of my pale skin.

i want to stay the same,
i want to be exactly as i was
the day you reached across,
felt me, and i touched you.
 

iii.
i hope to hold our whole world
and hand it to you in my palm.

(even if mine crumbles.)

Atlas bent & crippled
i am devoted to
holding you up.
i will not shrug.

(oh, i must move on)


iv.
(no.) cleanse my home
w. white sage & string
along my bedpost
bewitched apples cored.
finally biting into you
was like biting into
an apple that hid a star.


and *omitted,
how i adore stars.
i lose sleep
surrounded by them,
counting them, staring
into mirror telescopes
until my eyes burn
and my vision blurs.


i will hold you
in my mind’s eye
forever. i will dedicate
and devote every motion
onward towards the path
which leads back to you.
 

(even if it feels eerily, like eights.)


(infinity.) behold infinity
within the iris of your
half-m∞n eyes smiling
back in a beam.


v.
i’ll race time to the future,
at the far end of our solar system.
first steps cracking untouched
crust of Pluto’s nitrogen snow, 
at the  center of her heart-
shaped crater. look back into
space as the glim of Earth
is licked (–flickers)

(the moment of our first kiss.)

like these memories, no more
than a spectacle, a twinkle, in the
otherwise steady shine of Earth
bathed in our Sun’s overcast light.
filtered and shrunk by distance and
gravity as a star–finally, a star
i had never gleaned before. (oh!)
how fortune smiles upon all…


(who behold you, *omitted.) six pm

*revised 2021

Paige Six | 2019