ninestars

we sat and imagined fireflies

flitting between the tops of the RVs

as the sun disappeared into muggy,

illicit sludge. we realized we both liked

 the sticky-sweet taste of summer

Is this really what it means to be American? 

To say: Only certain people can be who they are. 

To start wars. 

To cause pain. 

To put others beneath you. 

If only I could hug

The stars;

Perhaps I could shatter them

And cup the shards

In my palms,

The cracks constellations

Aligning with my veins,

But that isn’t close enough

                                                          anyone

A mini-canvas of me and her in a faceless painting style lies face down in the corner of my bookshelf. It took a month or two to turn over, but I still have the canvas. We made it at her house during a sleepover.

i think i know why aliens haven't visited us. they're 

definitely watching with rapt attention, waiting 

to see how we climb the highest wall 

humanity built for ourselves in the past