I wish I could word- play with reasons
why stars shine
only when you and I
are beneath them
or contemplate directions that fireflies take
to marry fantasy with what is real.
If we could take a leap
within some 3:00 am frame of mind
and end up in the same galaxy,
would you mind?
We could laugh like imaginary friends
until light awakens us
from the dream that met your hand in mine.
I saw a shadow in a painting
that fit your silhouette
so I sat and waited for a signature
of that artist in Paris
so we could somehow be connected
and then I saw a shooting star.