Shooting Stars


When we'd mined the earth through
and nothing holy sparkled in
its blackened caverns full of stone
we climbed the spines of skyward steps
and lusted for a new abyss of pearls
that gleamed alone for midnight's sultry desolation
But the stellar rocks slipped through our ropes
the salty woven nets we pulled to Earth were bare
so we shot the stars with
poisoned arrows tinged with ash and tar
They plunged down toward our heads
(wrapped in our hands, eyes peeping through our trembling fingers)
so lightning quick, like shards of fragile glass or
jagged fragments torn from moonlit seas
When at last the night was cavern black
the onyx was a mirror in the sky
And rather than the barren universe
we mined our blinded consciences instead

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