Phoebe and Enceladus
by Tiffany Anne Tondut
Your whole body is an eye - blink!
should the stars in me die.
Satellites orbit the earth like stars.
They pretend to be us.
They pretend to know who we are...
Don’t let them fall into the river!
The stars, I mean. Or else
who will know you once read me
under their Camden bulbs?
Cradle my breath carefully.
Spill nothing
as you carve our constellations into the night.
Then build for our love a landmark
in this midnight-park,
So in the morning,
crowds can contemplate us in bronze.
Or else,
walk past in summer’s scores
to the souvenir stands,
sucking the life out of hotdogs.