kepler Cover-V1.png

Cover Image by Michael Yull 

kepler-186f by Rebecca Bell 

Published November 29, 2020

Your hand in mine, we’re hitched to pure sunlight 

sights set on the furthest corner of space. 

Let’s skip asteroids on planets, burn scars

white like yours, kiss dust trails goodbye, embrace 

pitch-black nothingness, void still less empty 

than you, you say. The universe will lose

black holes one day, silence beyond silence.

Swim with me between scattered galaxies,

beyond boundaries to those uncharted

waves of trembling inexistence and cease

to exist, where time folds in on itself—

But first, let me trace lines along your flesh

freckle to freckle, wrist luminous with

constellations brighter than Sirius—

look closer, sweet friend, at your star-filled skin.

Starless skies still hide fragments of something

in muddled nothings; there is more for us.

 

Rebecca Bell

Rebecca Bell was born and raised in St. Louis, Missouri. She graduated from Southeast Missouri State University with a BA in English and a BS in Psychology. Her debut short story “Lava Games” was published in the Journey Literary Magazine in 2017 and won first place for fiction in the Katherine Hinchey Cochran Writing Achievement Awards that same year.

You can find her on Twitter @belkastle.