She saw me looking at the beautiful night sky.
You seem fascinated by the stars she mused.
They are more fascinated by me I said.
We understand each other
The stars and I.
They see me as the one who makes wishes.
I see them as the stars who fail to grant them.
People think they are made of fire and power.
But they are only made of lost dreams
and unanswered prayers.
Which one is made of your wishes she asked.
I show her the brightest star in the heavens.
It is that one
it burns brightly with my wishes.
They are all about you.
Doesn’t that make you a star?