and no one else will understand why we don't turn back

You're laying on your back,
arms folded loosely behind your head
and you point up to the mural countries of
stars and say
"that one",
"that is where we're going next."

I smile up at the distant dreams
and grab the roots of
autumn leaves
and my fingers fold back into themselves.

Somehow you've allowed me to reject everything I've ever learned of science.

To fly to the stars is simply the dream of a child
without the proper spaceship and spacesuit and
what do you even want to go to the stars for?
They are already beautiful and you will burn.

Science is a lie, I am afraid:
Hiding their secret that with a brilliant astronaut
no feat is too far or impossible
and they forget- I am already on fire.

So we touch our palms to the crinkling leaves
igniting our jet packs, and to some degree,
each other.

Science tells it's latest lie-
we're tiny fools, exploding in the sky.

and I say,
let them listen.

below, everybody loves the scent of embers,
and i love the way you smile
when you're looking up.