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You were born from a shadow, darkness coiling
around your flesh like a snake. You who were born
with no shadow, stars clenched between
plump fists. You sucked on those mineralized
meteorites, eyes shining silver, and they named you
Star Eater. Play your part, wear robes of velvet
night, hung with scales and teeth. You will be
called demon, monster, nightmare, evil, death.
But they do not know how the stars taste.

 

 

[Editor’s Note: Publication of this poem was made possible by a gift from Sangwany Kreng during our annual Kickstarter.]



Makena Metz writes for the page, screen, and stage and has an MFA in Creative Writing and MA in English from Chapman University. Makena is a proud member of DGA, ASCAP, WIA, Maestra, and the SCL. Follow her @ makenametz on social media and find her work on makenametz.com.
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13 May 2024

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