there are no stars in

new york city; the

sky is black because

the buildings tower up

windows of whiteness

so try: imagine

stars seen for the first 

time, coming out of a 

movie with parents

on fire island — i

looked at the big sky

filled with tiny brights

scattered sparkles i 

said look but they did

not see. i lonewalked

quiet. see - i knew 

myself different. i

felt things they didn’t.

they talked about the 

movie. but i kept 

watching stars all this 

time making wishes

to bring back to the 

city so that each 

lit aperture could

become marvelous 

a just discovered 

shared constellation

​

​