such is the case with a star, so bright and far away, twinkling, clear, and there every night, moving in gentle, oh-so subtle shifts, as if i tip back in my chair, over days, by arranging an arm, changing weight, which is how i prepare to doze where i write, on my side and curve, curl, dreaming under the glare of screen and light, so stellar, you ever are, like sparks and flames and strikes, though seen as individual atoms, lit brightly, bursting, like fireworks, grasping dark and squeezing it from the night, then pulse a blazing star, to me, burning, ever so, and such, is what you ever are.
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