palm reading

the future holds nothing
that isn’t already webbed between your fingers
half-moons and sunrises,
glint of tears and years gone.
you watch the city like stars,
everything blinking back at you
hold your hands to your face
red line of the horizon

remember that time on the water?
Orion looking down
and laughing with us
echoes and ripples
and still the morning comes
aerial and all light,
lean back and look under