The projector kicks on. Saint Valentine smears the
cosmos across the dome as lovers lean into one another.
You spotted me
drifting through
Ursa Major. I was
huddled alone
over a thesis that didn’t
mean much. Constellations
blurred at the event horizon,
as weeks turned to drafts
and I took to sleeping
on the couch.
[Didn’t you know there’s a black
hole at the center of the galaxy?]
I caught you checking
your watch over by
Alpha Centauri. You slid
through the stars as
you reminisced about
dandelion wine and
the time we tiptoed
to the bedroom.
We passed through separate
solar systems, flickering on our own
as celestial bodies do. Our luminescence
faded from view, like fireflies
lost in the glare of a lighthouse.
Reilly Dixon is a designer and writer for the Yellow Springs News in Yellow Springs, Ohio. He graduated from Wright State University in 2018 with a master’s degree in literature, with a focus on leftist fiction and theories of materialism. Occasionally, he writes poetry.