Astronomical Runes

Astronomical Runes

She was homesick constellations

that made octopi with enough tentacles

to keep the world in her grasp.

That grasp slid back and forth

As if to test the tangibility of its skin,

Up and down, like her lifelines

were connected to a Capricorn’s horns.

A gift bag of iron pills to the universe,

The sky’s blood cells danced into meteors

With her presence.

Those cells must appear in the proper order

Because she craves routine to cover

Astronomical scars like the ones on her

Thighs and stomach.

Her skin is rutted, pockmarked;

she fills the holes with facts

And guides my hand backwards

across her slickened seas.

I am not allowed to touch

Where Saturn tore her wide open;

She counts my ten fingers,

Negotiates her head into my chest

And asks me to help rebuild her home.

Anastasia Jill (they/them) is a queer writer living in Central Florida. They have been nominated for Best American Short Stories, The Pushcart Prize, and several other honors. Their work has been featured or is upcoming with Poets.org, Sundog Lit, Flash Fiction Online, Contemporary Verse 2, Broken Pencil, and more. 

Copyright © 2024 by Anastasia Jill

Published by Orion's Beau