Sometimes,
I stare at the stars.
It's almost like some kind of event for me,
A recurring celebration or memorial.
A birthday, christmas or halloween.
"Starday."
-
Someone once said,
*"What if it was a just a ceiling,
And the stars were just lightbulbs."*
And I laughed at the idea.
A real laugh.
A child's laugh.
-
I used to sit outside,
on the cold, wet, grass,
in the middle of the night.
I'd screw my head to the heavens and just watch.
Obsidian.
An ocean of black,
lined with burning jewels, winking back at me.
I figured,
explorers had already mapped and navigated all the others.
There was but one ocean left.
-
Sometimes I'd imagine
that a spaceship would open up the sky,
Drifting down on a wave of fire and light.
And they would pick me up,
They'd pick me up and steal me away.
They'd say,
"We heard your prayers."
And I'd say,
"Finally."
N.H.