09/02

spaceship in a bottle

tweezer me towards the moon.
i take a length of twine & use it 
to dangle my own stars. fixing them
from bits of teeth-light. the bottle 
was a shipwreck. frosted from 
salt-breathed water. a mermaid once 
cradled the object like a child then,
left it go in favor of a shell.
my desires for space are not neon 
or even canvas. they are handfuls.
melon water & pinched raspberries.
a thumb in a box of chocolates.
i have never needed air before.
in the depth of space i might even 
see a comet call me "brother." i have
so much rock & rupture ready in me.
when i was a girl i would climb up
on my roof & challenge celestial bodies
to boxing matches. take bruises 
all across my skin. every burst vessel
a brief nebula. in the bottle i place
the cockpit & then build the ship around.
red sides. glass window. fuel enough to light 
the whole year on fire. set the craft 
on my bedstand & instruct it not
to leave without me. i'm waiting 
for myself to go miniature. 
it's only a matter of days now. i can 
already feel my lungs shrinking to the size
of grape. i have lived sweety on this surface.
soon i will go. bottle & all
into the darkest evergreens & homemade stars. 

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