The moon shines a cool blue tonight
as we entwine our fingers, laying on the baseball field
beneath diamond heavens. We lie
in silence, in the moments when the Universe reveals
itself, and contemplate the distances between one celestial body to
another, the space between
us growing as I turn south
to find Orion while you seek Cassiopeia in the north.

Shooting stars cross the sky, and we wish separately on dead
stars and dead dreams, lights already grown red and extinguished
as we whisper in the dark, passing
between phases.

And in the end we're all left searching.

Every starry night
I look for your face.
Four imaginary lines
connecting five glimmering dots.

I relive the summers passed;
when I would look up, see you,
and know something was missing--
like Orion's Belt.

Come winter, when he returned,
he must have made you cold--
because I felt it too.
I moved away,
but ever in the sky you'd stay.

Every starry night
I look for your face.
Some call you Cassiopeia;
however, the beauty marks I know,
belong to one of another name.