Poet & Thief

Hydrogen  H, 1
There are days she can feel time on her skin
how it moves, and gives, and is the furthest thing
From constant.

Planets and celestial objects
are attracted to each other
by gravity–
yet, the lightest things

draw her; the scent of creosote, jasmine, ash,
the nodding heads of tiger lilies,
the filament of knowing–
Look carefully and you’ll see

the remnant of stars buried in the needles,
pinpricks of light
to see us through the darkest days,
the bluest night.

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