Come,
near and
far, young and
cold, open and
closed, to feel your stars!
How they gleam like cat eyes.
How they sparkle as surmise,
right before the truth breaks out, runs.
It's a painting in the deep sky's core,
and it promises life even in the dark!
YOU ARE READING
PERCHED PARCHED BUTTERFLY
PoetryYour voice is the paint I take to the sky, splattering it all over, so they can all know you're nigh.
