When we were told that our planet wasn’t the only one
Did it remind us something about us and the flawless rays of the sun? 

Beating golden threads into our pillow read hearts, tearing itself to shreds and shooting through ghosts like darts

Hitting cold walls behind us and showing us who we are 

In spring rivers when we had forgotten about ourselves under winter stars

Did the company of the earth’s planets put us to bed at night? 

Like the many spinning faces that never leave their places, out of our sight? 

Is that why when they die we lose our gravity, and our might? With each falling away from us, our core struggling desperately to stay a flight? 

The speculation alone would keep me awake and upright

It’s like the space inside my brain is like the space in the stars where nothing is starkly wrong or even right, 

Where each comet could kill or give life, where each fire could dry up and render worlds drowned in great plight 

How I wonder how these planets may interpret me in their world,  how I wonder how you may think of me, Jupiter, my darling girl. 
Rosie May Collins 


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