i.
I don’t get what it is about stars,
why we make those tiny dots in the sky the
object of our metaphors and the
choruses of our love songs and the
inspiration in our graduation speeches.
I don’t get why we look at them and think we’ve
found the key that unlocks the
depths of the universe, the
mysteries of existence,
and all things in between.
I guess we’re all just petty,
and petty people like shiny things.

ii.
Look at the stars, you said.
They burn.
(but my friend, look at you. look at your nose,
your eyes, your hands, your lips, marvel at the
glorious creation you are because
you are so much more than a soulless mortal
that does nothing but sit complacently up there
in a black sea of infinity you are more than that,
you are wonder and awe and mystery
and complexity and not even gravity
can hold your heart steady when it wants to soar.)
Yes, I said.
They burn out, eventually.