I Could Just Marvel

I can barely see the hand in front of my face
The blackness, so resolute, almost visceral
And yet, I could just marvel at the stars
Every constellation stretches out high above
Now, I long to grasp at a cypsela on the breeze
I command my hand to reach into the air
Without evidence, I am unsure it exists
So I feel the breeze
I see the stars
And I weep

Enjoy my writing? Buy me a coffee 🙂

Photo by Matt Gross on Unsplash

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Michelle builds starships.

Sharing my story through a science fiction blog.

Paola Trimarco

Writer and Linguist


"I saw the Angel in the marble, and carved until I set him free"

Jo Writes Fantasy

Born in Poland | Living in Texas Now | Hype

Way Too Fantasy

Speculative fiction book reviews and more!

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