Fallen from a silent galaxy

He has landed on the quilt,
a soft splat
sunken like a paperweight
anchoring the room,
his face
a mushroom of sleep.

He is gripping the slow strings
of nightfall
over marshmallow hills,
forests of upside down.
Where are you now
my little space man?

Quiescent star
brewing at the centre
of the bedroom’s orbit,
he sails beneath my kiss
his cheek warm with the scent
of secret planets.

 

First published in Takahe 2007