by Satya Dash Jasper Garratt Stars flossed out of gapped clouds Stars taking sanctuary in the moon’s desire Stars now arriving in blue neon suits Stars peeling off my mother’s temple Stars falling on my lap, slow dancing with my hips Stars witnessing in heaven how God designed death Only the stars saw Him throb like a gilded bone Stars that convinced Him it was acceptable to fault Stars now prancing in the margins of my notebook Stars scribbling my name in a handwriting posse