Tonight's Poet Corner: Our Cosmic Summer
Our Cosmic Summer
by Belinda Roddie
I hold your planet in my hand,
the granite hard against my bare
feet. The June room spins
seven hundred degrees. I am dizzy,
and you kiss me in my lackadaisical vertigo.
There is a tremor in the sediment of
your personal world, your system
that pretends to flawless
against my fingers. If I squeeze
hard enough, I can hear the wind squeal.
I can feel the breath of millions
realizing that they are simply a dream.
I sway and swoon, but I never
let go of you. I never release
the galaxy you are attempting to weave.
You'll need a few more chunks of rock
floating in space to give it some
complexity. Everything else can just
be stars. Hot, unsympathetic, and practically
divas the way they die. Prima donna
supernovae take their final bows in your
endless irises. You swivel me toward the wall.
I loosen my grip. The ocean swells.
Millions return to sleep. I am restless.
I am lost among countless spirals.
by Belinda Roddie
I hold your planet in my hand,
the granite hard against my bare
feet. The June room spins
seven hundred degrees. I am dizzy,
and you kiss me in my lackadaisical vertigo.
There is a tremor in the sediment of
your personal world, your system
that pretends to flawless
against my fingers. If I squeeze
hard enough, I can hear the wind squeal.
I can feel the breath of millions
realizing that they are simply a dream.
I sway and swoon, but I never
let go of you. I never release
the galaxy you are attempting to weave.
You'll need a few more chunks of rock
floating in space to give it some
complexity. Everything else can just
be stars. Hot, unsympathetic, and practically
divas the way they die. Prima donna
supernovae take their final bows in your
endless irises. You swivel me toward the wall.
I loosen my grip. The ocean swells.
Millions return to sleep. I am restless.
I am lost among countless spirals.
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