The Savage Stars Caitlyn Cacciatore

off in the distance

someone is learning

to make fire.

 it is a solitary engagement;

a silhouette bent

under the weight

of modern ineptitude.

 I watch them in the fading light;

here, fodder added to fuel

the flame; there, warm breath

blown upon an ember

which refuses to die.

in the space it takes to blink –

in the void between what you said

and what you meant;

the kindling becomes a conflagration.

I see you there

standing in the glow of the pyre

you built from washed-up detritus;

flotsam, jetsam, driftwood;

I do not need to speak

the language of mourning

to understand

that silver speech

slipping not from your lips

nor through your teeth;

or the way I can hear

your heart beating

in its cage;

or how you howl

in the shadow of the moonlight

and crane your head up

to the sky; now and forever

stained with the blood

of the savage stars.

Caitlin Cacciatore (she/hers) is a queer writer and poet who lives on the outskirts of New York City. She believes poetry has the power to create change and brighten lives, and wishes for her work to be an agent of forward motion. She won first prize in Bacopa Literary Review 2020 for poetry. You can find her at caitlincacciatore.wordpress.com

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