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shards of you
Shards of you seem to always be getting stuck
Beneath the film of my chest’s memories.
I am dizzy with expectations,
Thoughts teetering on the edge of my tongue
Like imbalanced ballerinas.
Permanent stars are etched along the ivory bars of my ribcage
With stardust to powder a vagabond heart.
A man once said I was a star,
As I shook my head vigorously,
Moon dust falling from my hair in particles of light.
I asked him to never call me a star again,
In fear of becoming stationary
Dead
Light.
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