breach
In this moment, the atmosphere stirs.
Rainclouds whisper, tracing the shape
of the bulbous earth, at every horizon beginning
and pressing out into the galaxy,
a glass bowl overturned.
The air moves through me.
The grass shivers and breathes beneath me.
The depth of the sky is breached
by the reach of my seeking hand as I
cull a single star to be my own.
In this moment, the atmosphere drifts.
I lay still and quiet as it moves,
folding my hands like a prayer
over my fragile, grounded star
while tomorrow stretches across the glass sky.
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