The stars fall for me;
In fragile, golden hues.

Tints of orange,
Swept by wind.

They lay at my feet,
Scattered ashes of the sky.

I roll the sharpened charcoal
Between my fingers;

Tasting it on my tongue,
Feeling it in my breath.

They say you should wish on a star,
And I do.

In smudged letters,
I scratch my only true wish,

Into the flesh of,
The papery heart.

As the wind blows,
Whipping against my back,

I release it,
To the air;

And there she floats,
My rogue star.

While sneakers walk,
The rain drenched asphalt.

I close my eyes
Imagining…

You
Catch
The
Leaf.

My Dreams Come True.