that one star that shines through the smog
don’t know her name. just see her every night. right before bed.
distant but within reach. present but spaced out. all glow but all history.
this city pumps the air with sin so she’s the only one hitting the town tonight.
i ask her questions, some nights, stare in wonder “how was your day?”
“how long was it?” “do stars even have days if worlds revolve around them?
like is she even still shining or just putting on a smile for the moon.
hard to tell the haze from the clouds. all of it starts to look soft, cozy.
almost cuddling her, keeping her warm in the sky, a pillow for her head.
almost forget, it’s toxic. far, not even close to where she is. so high and so alone.
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Author photo by Ally Schmaling
