Tripping Over Infinity

remember the night we drove out
into the inked darkness
until the hum of
the city evaporated into contrails streaked
above us like some Chagall canvas
that night I looked up at the sky
and its infinite display and I said
“doesn't it make you feel better to know
you're made of stardust?”
you laughed quietly and replied,
“you'd rather be up
there, wouldn't you?” and
I think that's when you first
knew I would always be tripping over
things because the ground didn't
interest me in the slightest