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Constellations

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I sat down one day, with blank paper and pen

to draw my whole universe, and everything in it

But my thoughts slipped away like birds from cages

And the paper stared back at me with contempt.

My hands would not obey, the glorious earth

of color and life became on paper an egg shaped mess.

The ordered cosmos like a broken watch, its gears bent and still.

So I did nothing until that day when we woke up to the sun

And I drew from your shoulder blades to your spine

all the constellations of the sky. Here Polaris, there Orion.

The moon and the planets traced by lips and fingertips

And when you woke to my touch and asked

“What on earth are you doing?”

I said I was stargazing.

And you laughed and exclaimed “You’re a weirdo”

but with a smile. And you’re right.

But in that moment I traced all of creation

and marveled at the beauty





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