It's rather difficult to pay attention when there
are souls dancing around us in plain sight.
They tune in and out of my peripherals,
fluxing about the electromagnetic currents
like soft party glitter twirling and whirling,
spiraling in a myriad of geometric patterns
branding permanent holes into the sky.
Celestial dust, I shall call them.

Sometimes I fear closing my eyes
because I know that one day when I open them
they won't be there.