The ancient astronomers believed
stars hung from heaven by silver threads.
I.
In the field
we studied stars.
I never saw
what I was supposed to,
like looking in the
microscope in biology lab
seeing only liquid's edge.
Through the telescope,
chilled sweat
dripping from my forehead,
I saw not even an August night.
Until I stepped away and fainted,
a star exploding,
a supernova.
II.
Three weeks later,
I lay on a table
covered by
a pink paper sheet,
my feet bound by metal stirrups.
I saw only white
splattered gold,
a ceiling I wished would suck
me away.
III.
In the white shed with its
ceiling cranked back,
I still wore a napkin to soak
the blood of a dead star.
But through the telescope that one night
I saw what I was supposed to--
the stardust sucked out of me,
a new star now
swaying from its silver thread.
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