stars illuminate
the fitted sheet of ebony silk that glazes the sky
when the lonely tangerine sunset cascades,
so do my tears.
the stars the moon and the hidden galaxies;
a front row seat in
"the breakdown"
but you were my personal astronomer.
the only one who would look close enough
to see the galaxies of welled up emotions
bound to spill over—
even when they weren't noticeable until the lustrous stars and moon were there to allow everyone else see.
