When you look at the stars, I find most people see them as very far. As a beautiful equation they wish to solve, so that with an outstretched hand they could reach up and touch, and hold it as if it were something to hold. But, when I look at stars, I see something very close, yet something quite unknowable. I see stars in kisses and breaths, in eyes burning and eyes of flinging shutters, many mouths wide in song letting the universe’s faceless face blaze into their flaring pinprick hearts. I live for stars, not within them. I see them as people; friends and lovers and strangers and souls, long gone from earth. I name them as if pets, and tell them my woes, sins, longings, and dreams. I feel if anything is capable of hearing a cry in the dark, or a scream in the raging wind, it is stars. I wish for them to stay in the sky, for I feel if I were to cradle them in my hands, they would surely fade, and then surely fizzle despair, then die.