Last night we learned about the stars,
And sat stone faced
Staring at each other.
Our faces were like impressionist paintings;
It was dark.
And we were beaded by the Dipper’s dew,
Painted by a nighttime mist,
Cool and condensed, our complexions were new.
Last night we learned about the constellations,
We looked for Andromeda
In her empyrean home,
Azure and illuminated.
She hid behind city lights
We both thought she was shy,
Ashamed of her body, pear shaped and pale,
Wearing the Dipper as a dress, we both wondered, Why?
Last night we learned how to hold hands
Under a blanket,
Catching our concerns,
And drinking in dreams
poured from Milky Way urns.
You sculpted my fingers into art of your own.
You said yours lacked any definition.
Save for your right thumb, shaped from one calloused broken bone.
Last night we learned how to read palms,
But only so briefly.
My heart was in my head,
Yours was in your health.
On the left laid Potential,
On the right rested Now,
I told of Gypsy Migraine methods,
All night you wondered, How?
Last night you learned how to lay down,
Resting your legs,
Wrapping them ‘round.
We trusted that moment,
And we never looked back.
We lived our direction
With suburban walked streets.
We lived our direction
Through forest retreats.
Last night we learned about the naming of stars
We learned about constellations
(But of everything else)