Love, Poetry

The Astronaut


It all laid right upon him

dappled blanket smothering

right over him

with just a lone streak of

pink and green or

was it violet and turquoise green;

I would fly

nearer to the stars 

to the nebulas

and even Andromeda 

if I could

if only I could;

The distance never felt any closer

with the steps he took

years he shed

and dozens of oxygen tanks he had;

The streak of hues always seemed

a galaxy or two afar

yet his heart never once

pumped futile or despondent;

Pushing another step forth

his irises fading into the violet lambency

the only streak of tint the astronaut could see;

and coincidentally

it was the last colour

she told him.

Photo by Thom Schneider on Unsplash

Dreams, Poetry


Flipping through

her astronomy book

she casually murmured

“how much do stardusts weigh?”

not expecting an answer

to this inanity;

He peered at

the tall mirror

to their left

fingers along his chin

took a minute

before moving his lips;

“As light as air and

as heavy as meteorites”

It all depends

on what the person

infront of the mirror sees.