Constellations, His Body in The Stars

When he last said he loved me,

it almost didn’t feel real anymore,

like I was no longer his to love,

like he had fallen from the stars and his body

belonged to them

to the galaxy beyond the stars that 

lines the night sky at night.

Surrounding the earth beyond where any telescope 

can see.

When he last said he cared for me

I didn’t hit him back with

the fact I cared for him back, but

with the truth 

I didn’t want those words to fall off his tongue without feeling,

I didn’t say this out loud

for I feared the bittersweet honesty

that could have been released,

Or the confirmation that 

I needed,

That my heart needed

that time is on our side and 

all we need is to ride out these storms and

in time the rainbow will show in our favor.

When I first said I loved him,

I could feel the waves 

I once used it as a protection part ways, separating from me.

I thought that was normal,

not acknowledging the lengths of vulnerability and

truly wearing my heart on my sleeves 

I’d exposed myself to.

When I last said I loved him,

it was as if those words 

had gone unspoken

or 

directed to the wrong person.

I’d since then thrown him back to the stars and back to his galaxy,

sent him my best wishes in constellations, and 

blew my leftover kisses for him towards the moon.

I love him, but

my earthly love could not sustain a star-held being like himself.

So now

when I look out to the sky 

The north star

that’s held me through

All the pain and the aimlessly getting lost

in my own thoughts and who I am supposed to be;

the north star that hadn’t been given a proper name

I identify him.

When I miss him and don’t get a chance to hear his voice,

I look outside, with even the slightest gust of wind,

I hear his voice within the whistle of the wind

between the trees,

In the floating hum of the flowers dancing in its wind

he’s always there for me

even though his body belongs to the stars.