If it were perfect
washed up yellow street light

glowing on the corner of National Ave

sparkling on the wet pavement

like a constellation heaped on the ground

thoughts keep me awake

turning and tossing

blankets thrown to the floor in a pile of frustration

it’s quiet

the sky opened up

like i never could

and drenched the earth in wind and rain

i sat on the porch

at 5:58am

because the thunder called me

and the lightning comforted me

it felt nice to know that i was not the only one

whose existence was merely something of chance

the storm raged on

as did the one beneath my skin

in the dark with a tight throat

burning eyes and a stinging nose

longing to go home

even though I was under a roof with a father and sister

who loved me

in a place i called home

knowing full well that the air i breathe sits like a boulder in my chest

and i struggle to stand

grasping desperately at the railings

i’ve been holding my breath so long

waiting for a miracle

that my lungs turned to sails

so that instead of drowning

i could live in the rain and sail the storm

just as the sun began to peek

over the crests of the trees

and suddenly the world was lonely again

just a small cosmic god in a kingdom of things

greater than anything imaginable

i wonder how it would taste

to sip the stars

and to place each of saturn's rings

on my fingers

how would it feel

to lay down in a blanket of time’s worn fabric

would moondust and meteorites grace the crown of my head

with gems of frosted crystals and small galaxies

what if my hands could create a universe

what if it were perfect?

-M.A.