A large, bright open star cluster located in the constellation Cancer.
I imagine 1,000 citrine points,
vibrating celestial swarm.
It vanishes & reappears.
Some say, the constant revival
is a crack. Through it souls enter
& depart the material world.
The matrimony of disaster
& belief sparkles here.
No. It drones. Like the tight electric
coils that string above our heads
in our invented cosmos. We are
star honey caught between worlds.
We’ve journeyed to pray under the zodiac
of desert scions. We pray for scars, a mark
to brand our rosy flesh
& remind the body it is just a body—
a myth we tell ourselves.
I beg the stars to extend down & hook my rib.
This desert is beyond the human world.
We are not human. We are gobblets
of rose water, ambrox, & myrrh.
My back is against rock,
my stems detach because there is nothing
to grasp. Because the night
can’t be held. When people say God,
this moment is what I feel.