Eulogy for a Language - Epilogue: Faithful Companions (or Sky 外有 Sky)

The special thing about planets aligning 


is they don't stay that way for long.

The night I gave up my placelessness, was also the night that the sky started falling.

You'd told me a secret;
said you were wearing my shirt
turns out it was a little too tight.
I had no idea.

The stars turn to water on my face under a gray evening sky
There are many ways that stars can go down
Stubbornly, we love the darkness they leave; the star we can't see.
As if we had authority to house-arrest a memory.

It's good
that tonight there are clouds, or perhaps I'd stubbornly love the empty dark behind them.

You thanked me for walking you home.

I wasn't expecting your hand on my back, as though gently sending me off
I wish I'd taken your hand while departing; a picture of faithful companions to stars.

Even if stars could stay put, the sky is still constantly changing.
I walked home alone to my own kingdom through fields in muddy shoes 
amid cold, falling stars coming down in tiny multitudes.

The frozen earth is gently cradled in white blankets.

Lost in the silent din of a widening gyre outside,
I think of my shirt tight around you,
holding you together where I failed.

I tell myself that even when it falls,

behind the sky,
there is still more sky.