i am who i am
or, what I wish I had known how to say when you told me, at age ten, that I intimidated boys (and meant that was a bad thing)
I should come with a warning label: do not stare
at the sun, she is so bright you might forget how to see
anything less shining, look at all else as lack of her.
I am not just a star, I am galactic
abundance, a supercluster of brilliance.
Thousands of moons are lit by the gleanings
of my presence—even in my absence
I am evident. I power planets
with my generosity, ecosystems thrive on the sight of me.
Do not confuse me with the lamp in your living room;
I do not have an off switch, much less a dimmer
for mood lighting and romantic interludes.
I cannot extinguish myself so their eyes hurt less.
I will not politely implode for their comfort.
I will be loved as I am.
