Space

He grabbed a handful of stardust
and cradled the glimmering powder in his hand.
He exhaled softly,
and the remnants of the star twirled into a person.

She was pale and lithe.
The dust from which she rose settled into her cheeks,
flecking the bridge of her nose.

When she was twelve, she tried desperately
to hide the star splattered across her face.
Her powder would wear off by midday.

As she grew into her sky-spun body,
though,
she found new things to cover up.
In her heart, she buried the ideas that seemed too big for the world.

She had trouble realizing her homeland.
She didn’t know that she came from another world.
And when she looked at herself,
all she saw was an overflowing glass –
too many words for so small a person.
Too many dreams for so small a universe.

The alien girl would fall to her knees
and beg the stars for freedom from her thoughts.
make me easier she whispered.
No one balances a spilling cup for long.

But years went on and on and
on, and she did not become smaller.
The stars on her face had long since faded
but the fire in her bones was alight.
Blazing,
consuming.

She whirled round the flames,
and the breeze only brightened the embers.
The star in the star girl was shining too brightly.
She was not easy.
She couldn’t make herself easy.

The alien girl fell to her knees
and begged the stars for freedom from her thoughts.
make it easier she shouted.
The alien girl with her alien words.

He grabbed the stardust
and cradled the fading powder in his hand.
He exhaled softly,
and the remnants of the person twirled toward the stars.

Glimpse of her homeland.
Grace to contain the fire of a galaxy.

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