There are drafts that sweep through the gaps in your house, held up just like ribcages; but the difference between a house and a home is whether the heart lies in it.

I bet you the stars feel the same way you do: lost in the vast body of the universe.
I bet they feel small among all of their cosmic peers.
I bet they feel like there are thousands of stars just like them.
Yet we still lie down in the grass,
in the middle of the street,
on rooftops
to gawk at their beauty,
though they're light-years away.
To stare at how dazzling they look on black canvas.
Fall in love with the constellations.