A poem by Elisabeth Hewer

I mapped the stars out for you
all the different ways they spun.
Then I traced the sun and lined
its path across the sky.
The part that sucks?
I was the one moving the whole time.
Sun and stars are fixed points,
as it turns out.
This is the best way I can figure out
to tell you that I’m trying to regulate you
in my head. Trying to work out
all the ways you tick.
The truth is you’re another fixed point;
I’m spinning at 1038 miles per hour
and I’ve forgotten how to stop.
This isn’t a metaphor for drunkenness (it definitely could be).
A good friend told me that this is a positive.
You’re just the backdrop and I’m
my main event. Sadly misinformed.
I need you the same way Earth needs the Sun.
Unfortunately you need me exactly as much
as the Sun needs the Earth.

— elisabeth hewer