if fingers could touch the points of light

if a finger could stretch and have a slight

chance of brushing when a sun becomes a star.

would there be music.

if breath breathed with lips, pressed

to the heavens could carry, stars on

new currents making galaxies harm-

lessly spin, in empty space.

would it be a kaleidoscope.

if we looked into each others eyes

seeing what stars we first saw, in awe

fingers touching fingers, brushing

until interlocked, lips so close as to

not touch but catch each others

soft shared breath.

would it again, be love.