I noticed that I have been drawing stars everywhere recently

In the margins of my paper,
on the inside of my wrist,
traced softly against
the back of your neck

I wasn't sure why
until I got into bed last night
and looked up
at the plastic stars
dancing across my ceiling

And I instantly thought
of how it felt
to look up at those stars
snuggled tight within your arms

They're almost as dazzling
as those tucked within your eyes

And I think that I'm still so blinded
that I see their outline
every time I blink

and I cannot help
but sketch them out
whenever I get the chance