I go straight to the Gems and Minerals hall,
my childhood in rooms.
I still get lost in opals.
A'a lava flows like honey.
I want to lay down under the blue whale,
tell the kids it's okay because I'm pregnant,
and perhaps will never be alone at the Natural History Museum again.
Landscapes behind the dolphins and buffalo.
Your great-grandfather painted those skies.
We'll enter the planetarium,
be taken away by moving stars,
how we’re expanding as a universe.
Maybe, like me, you'll want to take the star sapphires home.
Their glow like something you want living inside of you,
what we’re made of.