Vega & Altair

My fiery body remembers him better than my mind could ever recall. And on the seventh day of the seventh month my fingertips still reach for him. The sparks flying across the sky. Tiny balls of burning light shooting across our galaxy from the ends of my hands. Flaming prayers, begging the blazing river to carry me to him. Yet Vega remains separated from Altair.

He was always a star. And I, a princess. My father, the king of fire water, took charge over the stars. Altair was a guide. A lantern for the lost. Day in and day out he saved those who ventured off-course. Day in and day out I wove ribbons of flaming water into coats of celestial matter so that Altair might shine even brighter. My father’s most trusted page, Deneb, would deliver these luminous knits to the usher of the sky. One day Deneb did not show. I decided to play courier. When I made it across the sky, I realized I could never look away. He was enchanting. I returned to him over and over. Wrapping us in blankets of burning, aqueous light. And my hunger for him was insatiable. My mouth ached for him when I was away. And so I returned. Again and again. Day in and day out. Knitting beams of liquid fire to cover us in. Until on the seventh day of the seventh month my father, hearing rumor of my escapades, came to raise the river in the sky. And as the river turned vast and full as ocean he realized that I was tangled with Altair on the other side. He realized too late. And he could not control the tide. And I saw his face from across a vehement and boiling torrent.

My father, suddenly king of floods, pulsing with rage, unleashed a tidal wave of fury. Altair struggled in the undertow. And as his chin tipped back, mouth sucking in deep gulps of space, I did the only thing I knew to do. I scooped the ocean up and ran. But not even I could contain it. I was running with water. Dashing as far from Altair as I could. Carrying the ocean. Running with water. My arms filled to the brim, until they spilled over. Flooding the sky. Turning to sparkling, bursting fire. Sparks dancing across my skin, burning freckles across every inch until I turned to fire myself. And all the time the water spilling over. Dripping across the sky. Tiny droplets of light scattered about a boundless desert. Water turned to river of fire. No longer a cataclysmic current burying my love. Yet still a fierce and infinite blockade. A dusting of smoldering light. Separating Vega and Altair.