First Infatuation

Orion, the seven-studded constellation,
lit my teenage winter nights,
still, God-like, fitted in the sky.
He was my first true love:
the cold, unflinching body grafted of fire,
specks of light that perfectly formed a man.
I filled in his skin in my mind
on the slate of nightsky
and waited each evening for his appearance
to grant me sleep,
imprinting my days with hope
for the strength of boys and men to come,
though I somehow knew already
such comfort would be seasonal
and often distant.             

Holly Phillips