Always Full

The moon is always full
three inches above my skull.
The sun is always at its solstice
a thumb's length
in front of my heart.
The constellations, those
enormous beasts devouring
darkness, gently graze
and roam through the meadows
of my bellybutton.
I need no horoscope
to cast my destiny:
I Am destiny,
just as the hollow sky
contains both midnight and dawn.
If you really need to
predict what will become
of this world, or where
the path might lead you,
draw near to these lips.
Listen to the roaring sea
of stillness between
that breath and this one.
Let there be only
the annihilation
of a kiss.

Painting by Andrew Wyeth

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