empty. bleak. it’s three in the morning and the skies are grey.
the golden glitter and midnight blue once painted in our skies are now only flat on laptop screens, immortalized by pixels. the twinkle isn’t the same. (i don’t think it will ever be.)
my heart aches for when its canvas fabric stretched across the universe,
framed by golden infinities- an open exhibit i could watch every night.
a baby’s cry from next door cuts through the silence, followed quickly by the footsteps of a frantic mother. i watch as she swoops the child into her arms and begins bouncing her around, humming a soft tune about the twinkling stars. the melody is foreign to my ears. it’s been awhile since anyone has dared to even mention the them. not since…
my thoughts are interrupted by the creaking of their front door. i watch the mother cradle her child as she slips into the rocking chair, tucking the blankets in before swaying back and forth.
“once upon a time,” she whispered softly, “the sky twinkled so bright. golden dots covered the sky, and these dots were called the stars.”
a yawn escapes my lips as i feel sleepiness wash over me. the mother’s head snaps up in panic, frantic eyes meeting mine. i shake my head, bringing a finger to my lips. “don’t worry,” i mouth, “i won’t tell.” she nods carefully before continuing the story, but her tones are more hushed.
i sigh. i always knew that one day we’d be telling stories about the stars.
i didn’t know it had to be in secret.
inspired by the nursery rhyme twinkle twinkle little star's first two lines; "twinkle twinkle little star, how i wonder where you are."