You should be here with
me in this voided
hemisphere beneath the
blanket of stars. They’re
shimmering off excess
star dust and they fall
down in specks of azure
and violet as if heaven wants
to come and visit. You
should be embracing me
with your tender arms,
shielding me from harms
way, making sure I’m
secure and safe in case the
stars somehow gained gravity
and came crashing down
on to the Earth. You should
be treading your tongue in
the hollows be hide my
lips, collecting my vapid
saliva white shooting
stars glide across the
sky. You should be
here with me,
but you’re not.