May starlight’s wings be his

He looked up

to the lineage of stars,

and constellations

eons ancient

looked down at him

and whispered stories

of pasts unfathomed

with unblinking eyes

and dusty shrouds

of fireflies.

 

The midnight wind echoed

histories

s l o w l y

silently

while angels sang

“remember”.

 

And

the dew

of sunset eyes

stained

his nautical heart

the colour

of falling shadows

but he waited

[still]

for eternity to slumber

so that he

could smile.

 

Darkness blinks

but the stars

never

do.