Galileo

Before I ever met you
I’d spend entire days
perched on building ledges
and standing at front doors
Of potential dates and mates
Too scared to walk in or fly off
Like a broken gargoyle
Peeing down its leg
Incapable of warding off
even my weakest demons

Like all the famous
astronauts and astronomers
who spent days peering at the heavens
I’ve stared too long at the stars
orbiting inside your baby blues,
to no longer deny that God exists
I’ve adored them in all their phases
Like when we drank, when we cried
When we laughed at their gods
When we chanted to ours
And how they danced
When we made love
I watched them fall asleep holding
My kitty’s purr next to your chest
I still remember their sparkle
when you took my hand
and jumped off the edge
Into oblivion with mine

I obsessed with how the concrete
Might feel at terminal velocity
And how women in navy dresses
Wearing crooked, mottled hats
And crows in business casual attire
Will flock and point fingers,
phones, and beaks at me
As my guts, heresy
and brains seep out
You didn’t talk me down
Or notice my clipped wings
Instead you pulled me closer
Even after I told you I cheated

Five years in the grand suicide
Under the trials of gravity
I came to believe in infinity
and that there was no end
But like a tap on the shoulder
After just shooting up
The austerity of landing abruptly
came courtesy of Newton’s 3rd Law
I watched you drive away and over
my rived faith in a rented U-haul
Its ventricles, aortas, and nebulae
tamped into a beautiful
stellar constellation
Plotted out on an asphalt map
A daguerrotype and testament
published posthumously
Of my true love to thee