(As Published in Silhouettes of Stardust)
There is a magic in the night sky
between midnight and dawn.
The hours when dreams are made.
Real enough to touch.
I remember the boy who kissed me
long after the moon’s light faded.
The magic of starlight passing through his lips
and the familiar pull
of a string wrapping around my heart,
his fingers in my hair.
Pinprick stars across a sea of deep blue
watch and wonder
as all but a few sleep away the hours
when dreams are made.
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