Once I dreamed

that all the stars

in the firmament

sent down tendrils

to enfold, penetrate, satiate—

a sparkle in my spleen,

a twinkle in my ankle,

a glimmer in my gut,

a borealis in my bones.

I felt so much lighter

afterwards that I thought

maybe I could fit

into those pants, but

like most miracles,

this one had its own

inscrutable agenda.

And, what with the

lingering phosphorescence

I thought maybe

I wouldn’t need

my overhead light

any more. But after

stumbling over some

furniture, I decided

maybe I did.

However,

I do look at the stars

a little differently.