Can I be a little star on your ceiling?

You know, one of those plastic stars

that glow at night.

They watch over you while you sleep.

And if you’re like me, then you’ve already come up with some childish

notion that

they will protect you.

I will do that for you if they won’t.

I’ll be there to smooth your hair, to

kiss up fallen eyelashes.

But first I will watch them closely,

making wishes.

I will drink up your skin. It’s my wine,

strong and dark; it sets me on fire.

I will shade you from darkness

and bury you in light.

I will hold your secrets, your bright

hopes and dark wishes.  

And I’m here, hoping.

I have hope for you.