I didn’t know the stars
could come down to earth
until they blinked at me
through your eyes.
I saw a strange Little Dipper,
tipping over and pouring my life out  
until it had reached the very last drop.
You looked at me and
pointed at the sky,
Hand extended up perpendicular
from the asphalt the sweat on
our backs stuck to.
I didn’t see what you saw.
The space between your pointer
and the sky felt immeasurable.
Why is it that the sky needs to feel so far away?
Doesn’t the night sky extend
all the way down to where our skin ends?

The world has always felt so big to me,
but that night the atmosphere
reached your arms.
Your hand was in the same hemisphere
as the Pleiades star cluster,
or, the “silly Little Dipper” as you called it.
For a moment, I could almost
feel the stars beneath my feet.
You cupped your hands to catch my life,
so I could walk through space once more.