I often wonder what stars look like during daylight.  Understandably, that seems contradictory, seeing as daylight is cast from a star.  This isn’t starting out so well.... Just.. Hear me out on this one.... Alright, let’s start again.  I often wonder what stars looking like during daylight.  Do the spread life-giving rays toward deep space or is that just the ignorant optimist speaking too quickly?  I tend to speak first, question later, Standard american wisdom, does anyone else think it’s cool that the hottest stars are actually blue?  Blue... Like the eyes of pretty girls on TV,  Blue, like the first T-shirt my second love told me I looked good in, for a third time.  Blue... Like... Blue’s Clues?  So far, not so good.  I’ll apologize to the audience right now, It’s been some time since I’ve written, Feeling like a typewriter collecting 50 years of dust, my words are quite antiquated. Now... Where were we?  Right! The stars!  They scream to me, words, I only wish I could understand.  I can hear the right side of the sky when the wind calms, and clouds disappear.  “ gaze upon us, let’s fill your emptyness, enjoy the abundance of mysteries sent through your squinted eyes and released from your over-bearing shout.
Hey now, I don’t know about you, that sounded pretty good.  Definitely going to keep that in here.  I think I’m unraveling the mystery, The stars are magicians.  A bit of sleight of hand, now you see me... Now, only they see me.  I finally understand why the ends of stars are pointed, it’s the edge of their wands.  Cascading star dust over what they see fit, I remember being told humans are made of such a thing.  If truth is spoken from these lips, Color me blue, I wish to be the hottest thing in the sky.  Sadly, I’ll be an infrared Super giant, just wasting up space.  Maybe I’m not to know why I can’t see the stars.  I’m not meant to know the mysteries, after all, a good magician never reveals his tricks.  Tonight I’ll look up towards them, infinity between us, I’ll speak to them;         I still can’t see you during daylight.  I can’t hear the left side of the sky, it’s whispers  clouded by Andromeda. However, this stellar disappearing act has allowed one piece of light to shine through the cloud cover and dust I’ve collected.  They’ve helped me finish the poem.