I told her how to catch
a whale, you wait for a star
to fall. I remember a look
so sour that my face looked
like crumpled newspaper.

I told her to hang on tight
to the shooting star, to lasso
it with chain. It must
have slipped around her neck
just as the star jerked away.

Her burning body let off
such a warmth the icicles
on Pluto melted.

Her heart became the
centre of the universe.