I saw someone nail the moon into the pavement in Northwood last night.
They ripped the plywood off and splattered
constellations no one had ever heard of.
Watched as the stars and the carpenters went
shifting, writhing, dancing on top of black waves.

They cluster into the nails, spiraling away,
winking as they sink into their fate.
I climb from my window, swing from the fire escape.
Place my hand on the atmosphere, a hammer in my
sundress pocket, turned to its opposing side,
the supernovas finally free.

“Stop playing with your drink.”
He snaps his fingers.
I take a sip,
and the magic scattered.

Laura is currently a student at Palm Beach Atlantic University studying psychology, but her true passion is for poetry. She loves spending her free time listening to her favorite band Relient K, being an activist for mental health, and taking pictures of pretty flowers. She may be found on Instagram @laurapastorino. This is her first published work.