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.