watched from our sultry summer chapel,
her light hair seemed to unleash a flutter of tiny souls from my eyelashes
the sunset she painted like a mural untangled into a night sky, one star at a time.
we were running through her favorite constellation,
catching bright beams in dirty ocean fists,
and she pressed up to me, whispered, “with me love,”
“I want to be cradled by the universe”
and so, made of star stuff, cosmic latte,
we spun until our heads were home
put whatever memories made on the moon that were caught inside of me
put it into a glass jar and labeled it “IT’S OK”
tu es sur
“It’s ok” we softly breathed in sky dust
and opened our eyes.
Natalie Schlosberg lives in New York and is a junior in high school. She mostly spends her time writing poems about girls.