Solar Eclipse

You took her starlight from the sky

Painted excuses, poor remuneration

pulled her, head up, from

her galaxy of uncensored dreams

She drags her heart over the satellites of pain

Scrapes her nebulae

over the circuitry of memory

If planets lived

she would breathe life into

their oblivious lips

You scarred her warm, saturnine rings

They now exist cold, rough, hard

Her lips are now tombs;

having died a lunar death

She smiles; a grimace lost

In the bitter aisles of Callisto

icy fools, and dormant passions

lie in wait; flaming, yet draconian

as each frozen tear escapes,

yesterday’s phrenology of non-existence

And you licked, slowly,

her blazing armpits of grief

Single moons in the paradox of pain

And waited, suspended in celestial non-entity

for your solar eclipse