Glowing far beneath a band of burning crystal,
He drifted through silence, heartbroken and distal—
A whisper of frost left behind by trailing light,
As the comet passed far above in endless night.

He sang to distant suns, though they raised no refrain;
His voice, just a glimmer beneath the comet’s train.
No orbit, no axis, in his celestial drift—
Just the chill of pale starlight, too distant to shift.

Yet, far on the curve of the comet’s silver flare,
She wandered through silence, though as yet unaware—
A shimmer in motion and untouched by regret,
Her path not his own, though it had not diverged yet.

Though light-years apart in their transcendent array,
A trace of astral longing had altered her way,
Their paths, though still distant, were to cross in the night,
Beneath the comet, passing by in stellar flight.
©️2025 David Cornetta

From my debut collection—If Saturn Should Fall— now available!

Some people are just born to fight,
I think.

...

It's not that they're born brave,
Nor that they're born strong.
But that the universe has decided that this one,
This being will have grit
And fire
And steel in their blood.

And it shall be tested,
This cosmic mettle of theirs.
They'll face trial after trial,
be broken and damaged in countless ways.

But this one was born to fight.
Maybe it's not the life they would have chosen,
For maybe they'd love to lay down their arms.

Yet they were born to fight
For the weak.
It's what they know.
It's what they do best.
It's all they can do.

I’ve died so many quiet deaths—
shedding selves that were never wrong,
just no longer true.

Each one carried me
as far as it could
before laying itself down
so I could rise.

Now that I’ve found healing,
I see it was always there—
a quiet knowing,
guiding me forward
through the dark.

But now I wonder—
was it the knowing that shaped the path,
or the path that shaped the knowing?
Did I become who I was meant to be,
or did I simply arrive
where I’d always been?

Sometimes I feel
like I have so much to say to you
but you're not in my life yet.

I trust one day
you'll hear my words
not with your ears
but in your mind
and find your way to me
not by accident
but by the design
of the Causer of Causes.

When that day comes
I won't need words
I'll just hold you so tight
you'll hear every unspoken thought
through the silence
of my heartbeat.

Lately I've been thinking
I've been dying and rotting
and doubting
it all
only knowing the fall
waiting for the plummet

I've begin to question
fate
I've begin to question
life
I've started to ask
why
and doubt in any god above

But right now
when I turn back around
I remember love
You and I have always fit
like a glove
We were two stars from the start
we started to fall
until we ended it all
like a comet hitting the earth
an explosion that couldn't have hurt worse
yet here we are
once more
here you are
at my door

I wasn't sure
yet I knew
You and I
are always true
All the clues
All the signs
The destiny
in our eyes
it truly binds

So as I let a tear fall
remembering it all
the rise and fall
and rise again
I wonder my dear old friend
How can I ever begin to question fate?
Question love and destiny?
When life has blessed me
and you
so heavenly

I sensed it
I saw it
in the snow
in the leaves
in the cold dewy breeze
you and me
a string of destiny
Do you feel it?
it's meant to be
Bananas and gorillas
noodles and oodles
96 and Brian
your shoulder to cry on
Laughter and hope
adventure and road trips
nothing could ever loosen this grip

Grand theft auto
and the prom
The way you know my mom
The stars at Findley
Life has giving me plenty
to see
looking up at you
at the gas station parking lot
in my heart I remember
In my heart
In my soul
I knew
It's me and you
and nothing can undo
or break
the connection
the string
our destiny
together

I can feel it in every weather
You and I
in a castle
in the middle of the road
You and I
are what keeps me getting by
and remembering

Life is dark
life is gloom
but destiny is real
and fate is too
God has spoken
and God has given
a wonderful gift
of
Me and you

1. Prologue — The Whispered Tale.

Long before fire learned to climb the sky,
the moon was not a stone,
but a soul.
She watched the world with longing,
round and full and always apart.

The elders say
the moon once touched the earth,
and it burned her,
so she learned to visit in softer form.

They say she chose
the shape of a fox—
quiet, clever, unseen,
but never unnoticed.


#2. The Descent.

They do not know
she fell,
not by choice
but by ache.

She fell as light through cracks in still water,
her body forming from breath and memory.
She became girl—
but the moonlight never left her bones.

Sometimes
you’ll see her in the forests of thought,
tail flicking between lines of poetry,
never quite touchable,
never quite gone.


#3. The Watcher.

I saw her
before I knew her.

A mouth—
shaped like mine
when I forget I’m being seen.

Eyes that held a creature
in each iris:
one pacing,
one chained.

She smiled like she was mouthing a warning.
And I did not run.


#4. The Dialogue.

“You see me,” she said.
“I see you,” I replied.
“No,” she whispered,
“you look, even when it hurts.”

I asked her what it felt like
to carry the moon inside your chest.

“Like humming with no mouth,”
she said,
“like singing to someone
who can’t hear spirit-speech.”

She asked me if I feared her.

I said,
“No. But I fear what you awaken.”


#5. The Revelation.

She showed me:
Her fur at dusk, silvered and soft.
The way her form flickered—
fox, woman, silence, flame.

“I was given to the world to heal it,”
she said,
“but the world wants its wounds.”

“I was married to a sky that forgot me.
I became a symbol
when I wanted to be a soul.”

I touched her face
and it rippled
like moonlight on a lake
tricked into thinking it was still.


#6. The Linger.

Now she walks still.
Sometimes woman.
Sometimes fox.
Sometimes breath on my neck
when I doubt myself.

She does not howl.
She does not sleep.
She watches.

Not to haunt,
but to hope.

They say
if you see the fox and don’t flinch,
she will give you her name.

She gave me mine instead.