The Death of an Astronaut

It is a dark, cold night

And from here I can see the stars

flapping their wings like vultures

looking for meat

I am here on the bed

The sheets are white

or yellow

I don't know

Much like my uncanny ability

to confuse the simplest of things.

I imagine before i go to sleep

that you would lie next to me

And that i would listen to the warmth of your hands

Like songs of ancient summer nights singing through the ages.

That our pulses would sing rock songs

Each out of tune but never missing a beat.

And you would whisper to my ear

softly like a mouse

Because you don't want my mother to know

And my eardrums would beat

Because of it

almost like a hum

Almost like a heartbeat

My ears are excited

but i contained the sounds

because i don't want my mother to know.

And yet the stars would see

that it was just me

Alone in my bed without anyone beside me.

But i wasn't on my bed.

We were off! Like a space shuttle hurtling into infinity and beyond.

We were off!

Oh it was fun! It was magical!

We opened the windows of the shuttle

And used fish nets to catch some stars

And store them in small, glass jars

so one day we will not lose our way.

The 7th star to your right

and straight on until the next night.

Underneath a young apple tree

I will clump the stars together

It will become big enough for both of us.

Then we would be on our own star

Of which i made for you,

jettisoned like astronauts

fumbling around for air

in a vacuum of space devoid of air

Just as the astronaut will die

We will die too.