the stars got stuck for a few of days now and they keep reminding me that i need human touch. i don’t know what thawed this spring, but as the equinox approaches i am budding with want and i gaze up towards an unfamiliar heaven that won’t reach down to crown me in cherry blossoms. i don’t know how to explain to little me that his outstretched arms, barely scratching the horizon, will be met with even less now. how to let him harden his little fists for just a moment, one clench, before i show him, again, how to brush the air with soft fingers and surrender to the pull of gravity. if we are to be, if we are to be at all in this world, let us be dancers.
heaven
