crochet planet cozies

i pull a thread from the beard
of a dead satellite dish. they bloom
all over the apartment buildings 
& thin kitkat houses on my block.
despite being ghosts, they still talk
to the planets. all week they've whispered
"cold cold cold. they planets are cold." 
i can't imagine what it is like to be in space
without a jacket. once i left my coat
on a plane home from portland & i imagine
that is what they feel like. watch
a tutorial on how to knit a cozie
big enough to hold these massive 
gumballs. someday i know a beast
will come along big enough
to eat us all. chew us until we're pink.
mouth full of burning stars.
until then let's be comfortable.
i buy slippers online & wait for 
the box to arrive. start crocheting
every night. sleep is for those without
existential dread. i'll dig in the yard
& find a new pair of eyes if i need them
to stay awake tomorrow. for now 
we have to dress the planets.
i notice they shiver, shaking in the sky.
"there," i say, as i dress each one
like a cookie jar or a teapot. 
they say, "skull skull skull." i do not know
what they mean. i feed them a packet 
of dice each. ravenous for chances.
some of them still believe one day
they might hold life. mars & her fantasies
of foot falls & birthday parties.
i will not be around to see that but
i tell her i hope it is marvelous
& it's true. i hope it is.