The Cedarville Review 2024

76 POETRY Even as you slide your sole backwards, you trace my cheeks like they’re mere mortal things. Over your hands, the Dead Seas leak. In your refl ection, the unspeakable speaks. As Orion leaves, silence stretches to constellations. I solace in myths and count cosmic accidents, chewing my kiss-less lips, deciding to knit myself into the stars. I commit no accident, neighboring with the sun. Look up. Look up and see me, busily arranging my body— pinning my hair in braids of comets, dusting helium from my bones, throwing marrow like meteors. I will not sit for your portrait. Sum. Ergo cogito. I am—up here. Therefore, I think I’ll write myself out of your regretful reach.