What if the stars we admire look up at us at night?
What if they knew that if it were not for our clouds, we would shine much brighter than they do?
Do you think they weep for us?
What if our lungs were filled with helium?
What if the balloons we gave life to departed from our lips and left us to dance in that temptations blue sky?
What if we didn't tie the knot strong enough?
Do you think they would wander back down to us, apologetic and humble, craving our breaths?
I think there is star dust in her veins.
I think there is a parade caged in her ribs and I do hear the heavy marching feat storming through her chest.
But sometimes I think the baton twirlers get their wands stuck in her throat.
Maybe The Grand Marshall threw his cane too carelessly and bruised her voice.
Sometimes I think she is so afraid to speak.
"It's just words" I remind her, but she would deny a truth as simple as that.
"It's not the words that threaten me; it's the creature that left them in my ear while I was sleeping."
So I am left with only coded riddles and loaded questions and the sound of her marching band feverishly playing.
All of those singing trumpets, they remind me of God's voice.
But she is angry with his gracious presence. She will never have a moment of silence; she never really likes what he has to say.
She tells me "Don't think so much. You're going to drown your insides."
And so it goes…
What if you believed in religion?
What gods would believe in you?