constellations make up my heart;

andromeda, orion, cassiopeia,

illuminating centuries-old

fairytales.

six suns

hold up my spine,

as if they were Atlas,

carrying the world on their shoulders.

shooting stars

soaring through my lungs,

streaks of wishes joining

my veins.

stardust

piling up in

the pit of my

stomach,

yearning for

Heaven.