do you remember
the night we drove
out into the inked darkness
until the hum of the city
evaporated into contrails streaked above us
like some ******* canvas
that night i looked up at the sky
and its infinite display and i said,
"doesn't it make you feel better to
know that you're made of stardust?"
and you laughed quietly and replied
"you'd rather be up there, wouldn't you?"
and i think that's when you knew
i would be always tripping over things
because the ground didn't interest me
in the slightest.