"My Bones Remember Galaxies"

i was not born

i was unfolded—

a slow release from silence,

threaded with starlight and screams.

~~ ~ ~~

they dressed me in gravity

and called it a name.

they taught me how to shrink

into skin that never quite fit.

but my bones…

my bones remember galaxies.

they hum in the marrow when it rains,

a hymn for constellations i once cradled

before this human shape found me.

~~ ~~

my dreams are not mine—

they are echoes from other lifetimes

trying to seep through my pores

as i pretend to be linear.

time drags,

but i do not.

i stretch

and bend

and break

in spirals.

~~ ~~

i fall in love with every version of myself

that once burned bright,

then faded

into the gentle hush

of cosmic dust.

and someday,

when the atoms in my skin grow restless,

i will dissolve into the sky—

not to vanish,

but to return

home.