the secret knowledge of stars

they whisper sweet nothings
to the lonely
to the dreamers who stare
for wont of anything else
singing silently
unknowingly
to them
they swing us in sweet circular exstacies
to sleep at night,
every night
sharing
lonely skies with
such dreamers who
must stare
with longing
at stars...

stars are...

they are the voices that chirrup constantly
when dark is quietest

the stars are every latent wish
waiting to fall
every undared kiss
limpid and exalted
dewing lips
of flowers
who still must grow at the wall.