The stars are many colors tonight,
copper, sapphire, white and yellow.
They hang there a hundred feet up.
The sky is indigo, the sky is warm.
I am running to the house with you.
They look out for us, I think,
because we are in love,
dip our touch in mystery,
dilate out pupils,
map our nerves like
wizened shamans.
Our mother, the Milky Way,
sends them to stand above us,
knit together our hearts
and await our return.
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