The moon will be abashed and the sun ashamed

Do stars dream?
Have nightmares
of celestial bodies naked

before a class of sixth-graders?
Wake screaming, gasping
for air, grasping at cloud covers?

Or do they only daydream,
disappear in broad sunlight
to explore other worlds

where they forever glow above
first kisses, never fail
to receive last-chance wishes,

always guide the lost home?
Maybe they simply envision
a space where antelope, archers,

astronomers don’t gaze
at each other from distances
but are jammed together, graced

with the touch of dust upon dust.
There would be no shame then
no need to save face

for everything could shine
more or less
and no one could tell the difference.

Published by asaur