Stargazer

by Lauren Paré

I turn my telescope toward stardust.

Adjust the aperture to spot your eyes.

On Earth, my hands scrape against bathtub rust.

On Saturn, your kiss eclipses the skies.

I stumble through equinox, hoard black holes,

Caress the alien chill of this bed.

Polaris dodges rivals and scores goals.

The harvest moon loiters. The jam is spread.

A white coat questions my diet and sleep.

Today’s menu: silence and a Froot Loop.

Asteroid belts dump laundry in a heap.

I trace the curves of craters in cream soup.

Our girl lays medals on her bedroom floor.

Your voice is dappled sun on our front door.