stars

[for b.h.]

I spend some nights
stargazing. Maybe
star searching is
a better term for
it actually. My eyes
hopscotch and slide
between points of light
and patches of dark.
I imagine the minds
that played with the
constellations, connecting
the sparks, conjuring
bears and lions
and tigers
on the inky
canvas of night.
Effigies to calm
and protect.
Familiars to
guard and worship.
I suspect they needed
reassurance too.
Who doesn’t need light?
This happens
mostly after open
ended moments.
What the hell
just happened
moments.
What was it you
once told me
moments.
Dark moments of
night.
And standing
out under the stars
scrying my future,
finding proof,
and accepting the truth,
that reading messages from
messengers millions
of miles away,
somehow makes
me feel that much
closer to
you.

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