005 I gave you the moon and stars for your birthday.

I gave you the moon and stars for your Birthday

You furrowed your brow and wrinkled your nose. So proud of my gifts ' I could hardly wait for the certificates to plop onto the mat. I named your star 'Blossom'; do you remember when you used to call me that? I don't think you do; otherwise I'm sure you wouldn't have said what you did. Why had I bought you a dead star?

Are we dead?

I handed you the slice of the moon that was now yours ' you laughed in my face ' and said why had I bought you a piece of barren, infertile moonscape?

I said nothing as tears dribbled from my womb, down my legs.

I gave you the moon and stars and you tossed them aside like litter.

Where I see beauty you see ugly.

But we weren't always so opposed. Do you remember when you bought me a dozen red balloons? We let them go in the April pink evening and you said, pointing to the highest balloon, a tiny red comma in the sky, I think that ones going to reach the moon, and then turning to me you said, one day I will buy it for you and all the stars to.

Do you remember?

I sit at the kitchen table and run my hand across the certificates; the white full-stop hangs in its celestial chart.
I leave them, side by side, the moon and stars, after all they belong to you.

You are in the lounge ' I can hear the TV news.
You say, is the dinner ready?

I can buy more slivers of moon, more twinkling stars, but not for you my love, not for you.

I say, goodbye ' and slip on my coat and shoes.