every sunday

i read your horoscope

and then mine

and it’s not written in the stars

that they will even match up

inside my stomach

there is a birch bark box

inside a birch bark box


i keep thinking that maybe

if i continue reading about

moons and suns

and venus in capricorn

that means this time

i will be one of the lucky ones

a birch bark box

that holds a list

of all the places

i want to

escape to

i keep telling people

that i’m a cancer rising

and gemini moon

because talking about astrology

is an easier way

to pretend you’re opening up

to a stranger

i spent three hours yesterday

pricing out

how much it would cost

to move to halifax

i don’t really believe

that these stars are guiding

my life

i don’t want to move to halifax

i can just never tell

how long is too long

or if

i’ve overstayed my welcome


but i’ve been relying

on constellations

to guide me home

since i was old enough

to find the north star

i guess being a visitor

is what you get used to

when you haven’t had the

chance to visit where your

bones call their own

in the city there are

few places that

the stars can shine through

the light pollution

i’m getting sick

of defining

what home means

to me

in my backyard

i get to look

at the same stars

that i’ve been looking at

since i was a toddler

that my ancestors

looked at


i was even

a whisper

to the wind

these are the same stars

that i have asked

to help me be tender


even though

they are the same stars

i’ve sat under

and whispered to

when being tender

didn’t work

we have different names

in our language

for the constellations

which is neither here

nor there

when they

never answer your


i sit

and watch

the moon

and the big dipper

change their positions

in the sky

watching summer

melt to fall

melt to spring

melt back to summer


always pining for

the next season

never at ease

in the discomfort

of transitions

every sunday

i read your horoscope

then i read mine

knowing fully well that

it doesn’t matter

because i have stories

hidden in my ribs

that are older

than this astrology

that i

keep applying

undeserved meaning to

maybe i owe it

to you

& to ocēkatāhk

& to myself

to learn how to talk

to more

than the stars

about how

to open myself up.











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