She was lost in the middle of everything when she first noticed the stars were like eyes, staring down at her, bright with insight.
She sat down on a hill top and tried to read their message like she did poems and novels, but could not decipher their language. The longer she tried, the more their energies seemed to collide - her furrowed brow stimulated super novas far and wide.
She did not stray. Her body solidified in stillness, her bones transforming into matter much denser. Her hair grew into ivy that draped down her sides. But her eyes remained human, searching distant space for the truth she knew it must hide.
She remained as the sun painted the sky; water color scheme sunsets of yellow and red and white, indigo twilights preceding the ever black cold winter nights. Her tears were rain and her breath, water vapor - her hands wrought flesh creatures that did not seek pleasure or the kindness of strangers.
She thought, I want to be on Orion’s belt, I want to be one with what is too far for my hands to grasp, I want to be gone and I want to know all. I don’t want to die in chains.
Her stomach emptied of bile, she shed her soft skin, she lay down on the hill top and begged the stars to help her. She strained to escape the cage of her self.
The stars watched from above as her face withered, her rose lips closed, her ivy browned. Their silvery light illuminated her eyes and made them shine like diamonds.
But in the end, as in the beginning - there was silence.
By: Sylvia Snow