Faint echoes of memory
Will illuminate even the darkest night.

Ghosts of stars long dead speak to stars as yet unborn.

Trust me.
We got (will have gotten will one day get) this.
The same new-old story:
Trust-
Let me fall

so
that you
can catch
me.

Hold me
tight,

It’s true – that my star
Evaporated long ago.
I remain
A question that lingers.

In all the billions and billions
Of people
Worlds
Interstitial spaces

Why me?
Why us?

Maybe because otherwise-
There would be no one to ask that question.

Shhh.
Close the door.

No one needs to know
That I have nothing (everything this one thing)
to say.

(I love you forever.)