There are two stories here.
One upstairs and one down.
One A Long Time Ago, Far Far Away,
Stars and Darths, the sounds of fire and hands falling into space.
Another: a mother dropped on a bed
heavy with stir-fry and “I love You, infinity + one.”
In that other story up there, galaxies shift like floor boards
and one called Daddy wins, then talks of peepee and brushing teeth,
strange world. He comes down to me
and we will hear aliens for awhile, watch X-Files,
ignore a few of their disobedient footsteps across the world,
because we might have started the fire,
but we can’t stop it now,
and because when we’re together, just being, limbs stacked,
there’s this sweet shift in space-time,
parental units turning human.