On nights like this
When the sky is a black cup of coffee
You can sweep your hand across the velvet of nothingness
And feel the pinpricks of the infinite stars

On nights like this
When warm air comes up from the gulf
And a cold breeze clips in from the north
You stand and stare
Trying to comprehend the gods in their houses
And how limitless the heavens have become

And on nights like this
When there is nothing above you
Nothing beside or around you
No connection to this lifetime or any other
There is the knowledge
That you are the fathomless
And the gods in their heavens cannot possibly comprehend
How infinite you are