Raised and dripping stars?

melting, and slowly seeping

into our deep, blue sky 

that the night plastered over 

our worn down city,

with it’s lights fading,

people quieting,

and the crickets talking

their late night gibberish. 

You and I, however,

sitting on our beat- up

blanket with three holes

and two stains

by the river,

watching our town

fall asleep slowly,

to the sound of the crickets

behind the sound of our breaths 

slowly falling into rhythm,

blending into one another 

the way our stars blend to

make up this Friday night’s sky

by the river and it’s tired city,

in the deep, blue, sky.