Show me what the stars look like tonight.

I’ve fallen in love with wars & darkness.

The kind of darkness said to have made
shadow monsters of seen-too-much eyes
& the kind of war lands made of
desecrated, dandelion wrists.

I am the wind, the morphine pump


& I’ve carved my bones into stars.


I wear them around my neck
like outward sun marrow
warming my carotid pulse.

These little glow-in-the-dark blankets
aren’t enough to stifle the sounds;

but my anatomy never seemed to fit
together the right way anyway.