In our minds, we're our own planets
Inside our minds, we stand on our own planets, revolving around our own suns.
I got knocked out of my orbit – now we circle the same sun, you & I; you clockwise, I counter.
She steps out – the clouds are ready to piss all over her in a golden shower. The world is a giant toilet. She doesn’t bother to put her hood up. Her scalp is pelted, her hair mats & hangs with the weight of water.
She stops at the corner, she sees the lights streaking: blots of blood in the sky.
A wave of water splashes across her body when a car plows through a trench. She doesn’t bother to wipe at her face.
She looks to the man next to her; he didn’t bother with his hood either, his inky hair dripping. Under the shelter of heavy brows, his pupils shift to her.
She smiles, reaches up, wipes the dirt off his face, and wipes her hand on her pants.
Today, Mercury & Pluto cross orbits. It’s the same icy fire that burns our skin. We peel away the old flesh; the constellation Gemini stretches across the galaxy.
We own the sky.