The Constellations of our Bodies

Most of my life

I have been afraid 

and dreading 

the dark,

night time,

hallways 

without windows,

basements,

death and despair,

closing my eyes

to sleep or

to be blinded.

Then, I stayed

long enough.

I marveled

at stars,

at the glowing 

outline that falls 

from your

uninhibited curls

to tuck itself

under your 

steady chin,

at the beauty

of my own sadness,

and yours,

at how eros

masquerades  

as selfishness.

Under the microscope

of darkness,

the stories 

and bravado

of light’s theatrics,

give way 

to incandescent fibers

that run their fingers

through everything

holding us.

We tilt our chins

to sky’s ceiling

to witness

the fabric 

of our universe

revealed,

then, to the floor

of our bodies

to see the fabric

of ourselves 

in every truth

too frightened 

to be naked

in light’s 

unintended, 

yet palpable,

condemnation,

and our reward

when staying here

long enough:

What once

frightened me

the most,

is now 

what dazzles me

the most.