.
.
.
.
you swallow pills as if you were
catching moons between your lips

and I am convinced
that this collapsed bone structure
of yours
is a constellation
because only stars
can twist so much, and still
be audible

I wonder if you are cold up there
while being a blanket
for me to want
to cover this halfheart I wear
in my eyes

but your arms stretch like the universe

and make me irrelevant