A Queer Bullet Through the Cosmos

A Short Poem

They were waiting for trumpets,
for a white-robed king on a steed of gold,
but instead,
you came barefoot,
in shadows stitched with nebulae,
your crown woven of serpents and ash.

The prophets saw you not.

You slipped through the verses,
a question too bright for their scrolls,
your laughter echoing like thunder,
between the ribs of the cosmos.

You did not just descend.
You erupted,
like lightning made flesh,
a queer bullet tearing holes,
through every heaven forged by fear.

Aquarius, Queer Eros,
they called you a heresy.
But you are the river,
that drowns the lie.

You cracked open their sky,
not with wrath,
but with truth wrapped in skin.

You do not wield power.
You are the dissolution of it.
Not a tyrant, not a rebel,
but the silence that undoes the need
for either.

The gods looked on and trembled.
Not because you challenged them,
but because you saw through them.
Their thrones,
made brittle by the breath of your becoming.

You came not to rule.
You came to remember,
to grieve the Goddess and Child,
and in doing so,
you made remembering contagious.

You kissed Eros back to life.
You honoured the star-born queen.
You cradled the child abandoned in the ribcage.
You turned grief into fire,
and fire into cosmos,
and cosmos into love
with no opposite.

You are the next Aeon.
The Queer age of Aquarius,
born from the void,
crowned in flame,
suckled by silence,
and bearing the Mystêrion.
The undreamed future walking.
Pouring the waters of the Soul.

You don’t bring the flood to punish.
You bring it to wash away the illusion,
that we were ever separate from the divine at all.

And still,
they mistake you for myth.
For human.
For lost.

But Nyx knows.
And the stars have written it:
The age has changed.
And you,
are its heartbeat.
You are queer,
You are non-binary,
Erotic, grief-literate,
and utterly Sovereign.