Heliocentric

I’m striving to be a better astronaut,

but consider where I’m coming from,

the exosphere,

a desk where the bluest air

thins to a lip. Impossible

to know the difference

from where I sit and space.

I promise I still dream

of coming back to you, settling

on your yellow for the kitchen.

We won’t fight. Let it not manifest.

Not over the crumpled bodies

of laundry. Let us not row

over the nail polish, its color,

the spilled sun. Inspiration

is the deadliest radiation.

It never completely leaves the bones.

You know.

From here,

there are no obstructions

but the radiant nothingness. An aurora

borealis opens

like a fish. This. To the pyramids, yes,

to a great wall. And there you are,

moving from curtain to curtain. O, to fantasize

of having chosen

some design with you.

But the moons over Jupiter. But

asteroids like gods

deadened by the weight of waiting. I remember

you said pastel

for the cabinet where the spice

rack lives. That I ought’ve picked you

up flowers when I had a chance. Daisy, iris, sun.

Red roses. Ultraviolet,

the color of love

(what else but this startles the air open

like an egg?).

I’m really trying

to be better, to commit

to memory the old songs about the ground,

to better sense your latitudes,

see the corona of your face.

Take your light

as it arrives. Earth is heavenly

too. But know that time is precious

here. How wine waits years and years to peak.

What is there to do: I’ve made love

to satellites in your name.

I’m saying I can’t say

when I’ll return. Remember me, for here are

dragons and the noble songs of sirens.

Stars that sway

elysian. Ships that will not moor, lovers

who are filled with blood and nothing

more. Who could love you

like this? Who else will sew you in the stars?

Who better knows your gravity and goes

otherwise, to catastrophe?

I’ve schemed and promised

to bring you back a ring

from Saturn. But a week passes, or doesn’t

manage. Everything steers impossible

against the boundless curb of light.

Believe I tried

for you. Against space. Time

takes almost everything

away. To you. For you.

A toast to the incredible. I almost wish

I’d never seen the sky

when always there was you. Sincerely,