To all the holy places and saints,
hear this my plea:
Lift me as a prayer to the stars and
promise the constellations will carry me
Pluck the petals from my heart and
scatter it to the skies so I may
sit beneath this blooming and
mourn with beauty to heal
Soothe the sword that impales the chest,
breathe to me a voice that I may
shout this golden hope
Level my eyes to the horizon to
see my new birth and sing to me
sprawled among the stars
Scoop the moonless gloom out the ribs
- my flesh not a meal for the starving
I am bent like origami full of creases
but sweep the stains out the blood
Baptize the bruise in the
galaxy's ocean, bestow me brave
like an anchor to the bones
Graze the heavenly flames with tender eyes,
ease the weeping wrists and
scrape my skin of rust
If I were to bury the sun
beneath the soil, will you still
lead me to the celestial city and
its superluminal bright?
Embrace me, stream of stars
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