I’m the twins, you’re the scorpion–

According to the Zodiacs.

Those who adhere to astrology 

Insist that our signs 

Have a zero percent compatibility

And yet 

If I’m one half of a twin, you seem

To be the other.

Stars are sky diamonds

Yet I never saw a use for diamonds;

Just a pretty way to

Handcuff yourself to the rusted bottom

Of a drowning ship

And yet

You are a diamond

And therefore a star;

My Polaris forever stitched 

In my north sky, my guide

Which is somewhat terrifying

Because to rely on a guide

Is to stumble blindfolded through the dark

And to pray that the other doesn’t release 

Your hand and leave you stranded

Forever.

Is it better to walk

In a starless cosmos

Than to chain yourself to 

A fickle ball of gas

That may burn away to nothing?