Remember lying next to me in that field behind my house? We used to watch the sky and wait for the stars. Darkness shrouded us; you had one hand in mine and the other pointing to the heavens. You told me all about the constellations, the millions of stars, but they were all so dull compared to yours. We talked all night and only went in when the cold was too much even for your huge sweaters and warm embrace.
We woke to the sound of rain smattering the window. You would grin at me and stroke my hair. We exchanged few words that early in the morning, rather coy smiles and knowing glances. Words were wasted on such a sense of belonging. I was yours, and you were mine. Two stars. Our own constellation.
