Wrapped up in blankets and each other we stare toward the sky.
At 4AM, I’ll swear, this is a magic show—created, just for you and I.
You watch, I wish, as the stars shoot across the heavens and fall.
We’ve got time you say, just wait, this is nothing at all.
One needs darkness to see the light so we let our eyes adjust until suddenly we see the stars are dripping all around.
This is love, I think. It’s a light show in the dark. It’s grit,…it’s perfect imperfection. It’s everything, I want to tell you, which has ever been lost, yet found.