








I did not teach her our constellations before I left. Considered the differences on the other side of the sky, how angles and space time would reflect and remap our realities until they were not different hemispheres but new dimensions where truthfully, we never should have met.
At first, I did not understand that she had been made in my image the way it is claimed I was made in Godβs. It is not happenstance that the first alien we ever laid eyes on looked human. We are the last ditch effort of the universe to outlast our own foolishness. They should not have been surprised when we took advantage of technology stolen from other planets and through that, nearly killed ourselves. Turned it back on those who thought us salvation to undo our regrets.
She felt the parasite on me the moment we met. Took my cold metal wrist and cupped the glint of my chin. She was the first person who did not ask me what had happened. Did not call me a conglomerate abomination. Looked past the physical defects, but knew my mind was star spangled with things Iβd rather forget. Said that this air between us was a safe space for the moment even though the governments of two worlds were trying to peel our grip from the truth of their deficit.
But we all got out okay. Now, I look up at the sky from a space station where Earth is just another one of the planets in a solar system far away. Itβs dark today. Our sovereign star makes lazy trips and here I see the constellation I call Persephone, surrounded by specks of red dwarf pomegranate seeds. You see, the myth reads she was cursed to split her time, and I burned myself by dreaming of a future we spent together, but the underworld has reclaimed what was mine.



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