My Boyfriend Says He Has a Theory About Atoms, But He Won’t Write the Poem
maybe
every so often, atoms swap
with each other, always random,
always beautiful, coming from the stars
to our arms, legs, necks, lips, kissing
us with the heat of dying heavens
so that our unexplained pain
isn’t hurtful—it’s art from another planet,
it’s the sun’s baby brother
burning out,
burning up,
burning us
to say hello I’m here earth isn’t so far
away.
Aleah Dye (she/her) primarily writes poetry, tending towards topics of morbidity, love, social justice, and philosophy. She is dreadfully afraid of imperfection and spiders, in no particular order. She has a one-eyed cat named Ivy and a one-track-minded (food!) cat named Rosebud. Aleah hopes to make hearts grow three sizes with her words. She is a 2020 Sundress Publications Best of the Net nominee. Read her latest work via Dreich, Another New Calligraphy, and Other Worldly Women Press. Follow her @bearsbeetspoet on Twitter.
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