i sit and deconstruct the night sky.
one star at a time, i pull them and place
them on my arms and braid them into
my hair.
i feel the moon looking
at me with envy.
i could peel my skin off to nestle
them beneath it, and maybe ichor
will reside
in my veins.
the clouds are wispy and mysterious
they shroud something but they wither
at my touch.
the moon hangs low as i grab it and swing
my legs on either side of the sleek
crescent.
i sit there
astride the celestial and
i can't believe that the earth
will shift and
i'll find myself on the breakfast table
buttering a toast
and waiting
for stars to be bright enough
to shine during gloomy days.