She’s a paradise-plucked god kept
in a cryo-continuum.
I’m a cosmonaut, orbiting a space
solstice, a thousand
Her body suffocates a bouquet
When the day ends,
her skin begins
But I’m in space, singing
to sea stars
and growing flowers on the sun,
a light-year moat
By midnight, Fate snakes a vine through her lungs.
Faith tosses it like a net
out to sea, a vernal equinox,
an anchor spackled with gravity.
I can see it. It’s not far.
My asteroid-arm reaches out, but the breath from her
sobbing chest wrenches it away.
Her vine-tether sticks to the side of a passerby whale.
I grasp at him, but come
away with just a fist of diamonds,
and he speeds through space
He drags her cryo-coffin behind him,
with dark matter
McKayla Anne Rockwell was born and raised in Youngstown, Ohio, where she developed a passion for community and writing. She is currently the Assistant Editor at Volney Road Review, and has been published in two anthologies by Eber & Wein, as well as a local magazine, Penguin Review. She hopes to one day write and edit for children’s and young adult literature, while giving back to the city she grew up in.