you really do fade fast these days, everything seems dusty- shooting away like an arrowhead

they used to say that siamese twins are attached at the hip because of the way the stars aligned. i hope your jupiter crossed hips with my saturn, that they chanted one song, one rhyme, held hands and mumbled.

our summers tasted like cinnamon, sticky sweet marrow oozing out under sizzling grasses. there was a certain perpetual motion to that thick spiced flow. the sun dappled us calico blankets. i always felt your gravity.

jupiter, you are so far away. have you disappeared next to me? our conjoined hips once shook with life. i am now attached to a fossil, your own dusty skeleton.

if only i could find your skeleton buried in sandy dunes because

jupiter belongs next to saturn.