I catch myself staring into the sky,
abysmal and infinite,
I can’t help but wonder if the stars gaze back too.
What secrets do they hold?
And do they whisper amongst each other?
Do the stars play favorites?
Am I a favorite?
I spend so much time looking up, bringing my fingertips to my lips and sending a kiss of prayer to the closest thing to heaven
but I know they are but distant relatives of mine,
for I am made of the same stardust as them.
Do the the stars gaze back and do they recognize me?
Perhaps I’m merely longing for home
Perhaps that is the familiar feeling I get when I peer back at them,
like a warmth that spreads from my chest, splitting me open and my flesh is raw and vulnerable,
yet I feel safe under their watch.
I’d like to think I’m not alone,
so I’ll pine for Orion, Cassiopeia, Andromeda…
every single one and surely, at least one will look back at me.