Inseparable
Nadine Ellsworth-Moran
…and God separated the light from the darkness.
Genesis 1:3b
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I wake on a bed of stars. tiny stars. glimmerdust fallen from super novas and floorboards of black holes. tiny stars cling to me and I can’t brush them off, they permeate my skin. I feel their orbit, celestial choreography— pirouette & jeté, glissade & echapeé along the rim of my own forgotten canyons where the light never plumbs. I shrink back from the edge and pull the stars with me. I hear their susurrations, how will she learn the darkness? our only refuge, they sigh, our only rest.
Once we were one.
Nadine Ellsworth-Moran serves in ministry in Georgia. She is fascinated by the stories unfolding all around her and seeks to bring everyone into conversation around a common table. Her work has appeared in Emrys, Theophron, Thimble, Pensive, and Kakalak, among others. She lives with her husband and four unrepentant cats.