and yet, still you and i will talk of this again–
the times when we would talk of only stars,
when your hands met water instead of stone.

when was it suddenly not as easy as the stars?

and yet, still you and i will talk of stars again.
their flickering was sad to you, you said.
but that just means that they are still thriving,
which is more than we’ll say about ourselves.

and yet, here is where you and i will end–
when you are shipped off to the ocean waves,
and i am still wasting graphite on words.
when neither of us have yet met the stars.

you and i will talk again when the stars
have all been burned out from the loneliness.