I fell from heaven
to be flesh, bone, soul:
to be real.
Spoke to the gods
for warmth,
praying as a sin
for myself.
You had called me selfish.
Ashamed, I didn’t dare
ask for anything else,
spoke only in whispers.
Made afraid of
the bright stars
as they guide me home.
I fell asleep cold,
still learning
how to love myself
warm.