Two girls stared at each other for years,
across fiery stars, meteors, and nebulas.
We each endured the blaze and burn of the sun
just to catch sight of the other.
We missed every shooting star, every comet
just to see our figures float by.
We ignored the storms that rained upon us
just to get a glimpse of how the other looks.
For me, she was the brightest star - my lucida
Her existence made me jealous of her planet.
We didn’t have the words or the space to speak,
so we waited until our paths crossed close enough to leap.
When the gap between us was narrow enough,
we knew it was time to jump.
She and I danced on the moon together.
She and I held each other
so that no darkness could squeeze through.
She and I drove by the North Star every night.
When we couldn’t lock fingers,
we sent messages,
debating who would leap next
and where we would venture.
We weaved through the constellations.
We watched every eclipse we could find.
We held stars in our hands.
Night after night, we leapt.
Night after night, we held on
until our worlds were close to waking
because we knew we had no home together.
She was the brightest star in my sky,
and I could not keep her.
MAKAILA AARIN (she/her) works as an academic librarian in Mississippi, where she is surrounded by what she loves most – books and people who love them too. From a young age, her pen has been her voice and her notebook has been a place of solace. Her passion for the written word led her to earn a bachelor’s degree in English/Writing and become a secondary English teacher. She also holds master’s degrees in education and library science. Her writing has appeared in Calliope literary journal, COVID Narratives, and The Mighty. She has forthcoming work in Sonnets for Shakespeare and Sinister Wisdom. Find her on Twitter: @makaila_aarin