You watch for shooting stars
You look so hard
That the stars seem to shift

Once, twice, thrice,
You see their tails from the periphery
Till you turn and nothing's there

Maybe you imagined them
Per chance they were never even there
Probably just a trick of the light

Then a bright one streaks across the sky
And you know the others with fiction
Now that you've seen the real thing

This is how shooting stars
Are like true love.