Me & the Sky

The sky is made of the same stuff I am made of
but it takes up a lot more space. Or less.

Is space a part of the sky? Is the sky in space?

How much of the sky can be contained
while the rest of it remains?

My hands are made of stardust, too.

The sky holds the thing that made it.

The sky has hands that I can’t hold,
but I can hold the sky in my hands.

I can hold the thing that made me.

Once, I loved an air sign.
She ignited my fire,
but together too long, we became explosive.

The sky needs fire to erupt.
And fire needs the sky
like earth needs to shoot it’s hot insides out—
all at once, then not at all.

I love an earth sign, now.
He keeps me tampered,
just enough to warm the hands of the sky
without burning anything else.

But all of us come from space,
take up space,
look for space between us,

when really the only space there is
is the space within us.