I was sitting in backyard of my uncle’s house and everyone was inside partying, gossiping, and eating.

I was not interested, and though I was bored. I was lost in the stars that night when I heard a friend of mine calling my name.

“Why are you out here?” he said.

“I was thinking about stars.”

“Do you think about love?”

“I do. How does it feel like?” And then the real conversation started.

“Like you’re drowning

and she is air.”

“Like you’re standing on the edge of cliff

and he’s the holding hand.”

 

“Like its the darkest time of night

and she’s the only shining star.”

“Like you’re broken into pieces

and he’s the empty jar.”

 

“Like you’re a dying fire

and she’s the needed spark.”

“Like maybe you are magic

and he’s the magic star.”

And I hoped it felt like that.