Blue Starlight

When you look up into the soft, black blanket

And see all of the holes punched in it,

Arranged in nonsense patterns, (sort of)

Like your grandmother’s quilts.

When you look at them, what do you see?

Because I see your reflection,

Millions of them passing over my head,

Illuminating me, showing me the way to

You.

I see a sea of deep rich blues and blacks,

Like the bruise of an artist after a struggle with his canvas.

And I don’t think the holes are really holes at all,

I think they are your eyes, all of them.

I think they are all your eyes because,

Everywhere I turn,

I see you. In everything I see, touch, hear, taste,

I see you. And that is all I need to see

To live, to breathe, to know I’m alive.

I stare up at the dark velvet,

The velvet that glows with your bright blue eyes,

I stare at it and, I hope, that you think of me this way

When you stare into the sun.

I can just see you now, blinking up

Into the fire of the mornings,

Laughing as you are struck dumb by the fires

(of passion, and romance, and vitality.)

This is us.

The moon cannot shine without the sun.

The sun will not set until the moon says it’s alright.

And the stars are always watching (me.)