Constellations – Vismai Rao

All night we try to pluck out constellations from our feeble 
knowledge of astronomy. There is no moon

but there is        light enough—

The sky: black
the mountains, blacker. 

                     I am certain
this isn’t a dream, even though you 
can no longer corroborate this memory. 

                     Even though I’m left 
too many uncorroborated memories—

I don’t recall a single word
we spoke. My neurons are firing 

things at me now: 
interstellar travel, our latest

loves, maya: the mother of illusions, but I know 
these are from other nights—

Of this one I remember 
close to nothing. 

Stars jigsawed 
against the night.

And us,
acutely aware of them—

Vismai Rao

Vismai Rao’s poems appear or are forthcoming in the Indianapolis Review, RHINO, Salamander, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Kissing Dynamite, & The Shore. Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and the Orison Anthology. She lives in India.

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