[ reflections. ]

what if the stars

are all the planes that went missing,

their lonely passengers sending help signals.

looking up at night,

it would explain the waves of sadness i feel

and the tears that i softly cry under the blankets

whenever i see the stars from my bed.

are tiny holes and cracks

in the sky that is just the lid

of a globular terrarium.

and we would reach the end of it

when we travel far enough,

past many galaxies.

we are just objects of observation

for whom is above.

are just lights strung up in the night

and we're just all drunk

pitiable people,

too detached to notice

that they are actually

right in front of us!

are part a tapestry

hanging across from us,

our painting.

nailed to walls

in a museum of all the things

created by God.

would the caption be:

[ Earth. ]