Sunday, November 18, 2012

Astronauts & Heartbreak

The connection between astronauts and heartbreak is understandable.

Watching Apollo 13 
On an orange tweed couch.
A doily itches the back of my shoulder.
His warm arm squeezes my waist.
I am safe.

He sighs.
His cologne, an ocean musk,
Hugs my senses.
But the smell of stale potpourri 
In a glass bowl
Overpowers his scent. 

On screen, in the metal capsule,
Alarm bells ring.
Red lights blink
A slow pulse.

It will work out, right?
Tom Hanks will save the shuttle, I think.
Save it from drifting
Into nothiness,
A sea of stars
And no wind for the sails.

On screen, the rhythmic beat of hope
To a minor chord.
Astronauts exchange looks of despair
Sweat trickles down an astronaut's chin.
A chill traces my spine.
My tongue is dry.

The astronauts won't make it, I realize.
They'll be lost faces
And dates
In the span of history.
Just like he and I.
Two years swallowed by
a vast universe.

The connection between astronauts and heartbreak is understandable.

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