Mercury

It wasn’t Mercury.

No planet could do this,

not even the cold, relentless sky

can explain why your hand

slipped from mine.

You said something

that fell like broken glass,

and my words,

like birds startled from the trees,

flew in every direction

but toward you.

The universe is too vast

to hold this kind of sorrow.

No retrograde could twist

the sweetness of your voice

into something distant,

like wind passing through reeds.

We want to blame the stars,

to say it’s their fault

for steering us wrong,

But it’s always been us,

our own hearts,

fumbling in the dark

while the night watches

in its perfect silence.

I don’t need the heavens

to tell me why we fall apart.

I can feel it

in the way your eyes wander

beyond my own,

searching for a place

where I no longer exist.

The stars keep shining,

but we are the ones who burn out.