hubble

last night
in my body
i wanted to feel smaller--
i felt the edges
of my skin expanding--
my freckles
drifting into 
the night sky-- i
clung onto each 
& asked them to
resist becoming stars 
last night in my body
i borrowed the
eyes of the hubble space
telescope
& i thought about all
the awe she has known
& how she feels about
the body she captures
images of--
NGC6753 the second
known spiral galaxy
whirling like a shiny
pinwheel out the window
of my father's jeep as
we drove through the corn fields--
the center-- the corona
they say it will tell them
something about how
galaxies form even though
the light
she captures is thousands 
& thousands of light years
away 
i wonder what it's like
for her to listen
to these memories of light--
the pirouette of celestial bodies
some dead some dying
some remembering
themselves--
when she watches a star burst 
does she sing happy birthday?
does she want to hold
the little burst
of life hold to her
chest? 
i think if i were the 
hubble space telescope
i would want to avert my
eyes-- i would want to leave 
the infant stars & galaxies
to bask in the infinite
heat of their births 
but instead she grabs picture
after picture
for the men on earth--
drops them like
postcards-- 
she tells the men to
be gentle with the images--
that these are bodies
are so much
like their own
i wonder how many spiral
galaxies i contain tongiht
or what it would be like
to be able to twirl
like one 
oh NGC6753-- i will
only ever know you though
this stream of photographs--
your corona a blaze--
your dress burning
with stars--
& the hubble space telescope
up there
tonight she will
want to feel smaller--
she will think of
all the nebulas-- 
the sun spots--
the gaseous fascade
of jupiter--
& she will wish more
than anything
to feel her feet touch
earth--
soil or rock beneath 
her to hold her--
her body out of orbits--
here in my 
room i am held by
carpet--
i share her eyes
a star is born
four thousand light years
ago