Stardust

You were stardust. I watched you and I
burned. Brilliant beams, long-lived
dreams—I was lost in flight, headed
towards the sun. Keep going
into the fire as dry wood is
thrown—that’s what they told me,
that’s where he, a man standing still,
set ablaze, is waiting for me.

I enter like an explosion.

Then
falling, tumbling, choking
on sand. Grit in my teeth,
sucked into the earth.
I don’t remember fire at all:
these are the things I remember.

You were dust.
I watched you and I fell apart.