We’ve been told space
is like two dark lips colliding
like science fiction
it outlines a small cosmos
where fear hides in a glow
where negative space
becomes a place for wishing
a constellation of hazy tunes
of faint sharp vowels
a glossary of meteors
a telescope to god
a cold bright white
maybe distance damages us
maybe Jupiter
will suddenly surprise us
with a notion of holiness
but instead an old planet
takes over all the space
and we are reminded
of the traces of fire
in our gaze
defining our infidelities
Copyright © 2015 by Nathalie Handal. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on May 12, 2015, by the Academy of American Poets.