There’s stars in her eyes.

Intangible but present.

Telling her to look at the moon so she can see them.

Believing that they’re just reflections

erased by cloudy nights

and she is no longer convinced.

Absent freckles,

Missing constellations.

Clung onto by her own night.

Not believing in stars,

Nor in her own galaxies.

Blind to her beauty.

Her skin, singed by silver spoons

Scarred by fools’ gold

Beaten by white pebbles withered down by the sea.

Heart holding stones.

Asteroids approaching,

Stars in her eyes,

She looks for Orion,

failing to realize his refuge in her soul.