watched from our sultry summer chapel,
her light hair seemed to unleash a flutter of tiny souls from my eyelashes
as the sunset she painted like a mural untangled into a night sky, one star at a time
we were running through her favorite constellation,
catching bright beams in our dirty ocean fists,
and she pressed up to me.
whispered “with me, love,”
“I want to be cradled by the universe”
and so, made of star stuff and cosmic latte,
we spun until our heads were home
put whatever memories made on the moon were caught like fireflies into a glass jar
and labeled it “IT’S OK”
“It’s ok” we softly breathed in sky dust
and opened our eyes.