take your eyes out
and put them in a box
make sure the inside of the box is
all blacked out
even a little light pollution
makes the scene hard to see
pick the highest hill nearby
(you should have chosen this before you plucked your eyes)
and in that lofty neighborhood
makeshift strap your eyebox to your back
shimmy up the top-most lamppost
to the same side of the lights as the constellations
(opposite the rest of brighton
and your inescapable roommates)
once there carefully un-black your eyebox
paper over each beaming sequin
every shining glare
below where you perch
then cut holes in your eyebox
careful not to prick your eyes
(whose pupils have grown so expansive
lusting for the midnight sky
hurting them is not the goal
with the holes in your eyebox)
stand tall and balance well
raise your eyebox
open your tongue
and yell for the stars
Sterling-Elizabeth Arcadia (she/they) is a trans poet and diy tattooer in washington dc, where she watches birds and cares for her cats. she is currently working on a chapbook of queer ekphrastic love poems based on her friends’ instagram posts. her work has been published in Stone of Madness Press and Fuck Your Dreams Zine, and is forthcoming elsewhere.