We say that we are beneath   

the stars.        We aren’t,  

            Of course.  

 I lie in a field,   

      No ceiling,  

                         no floors,  

       Only skies.  

  

        We lie in a field.  

“There's a meteor shower”  

             he says. I don’t see.   

    Who cares if            

            he can kiss?  

     He can see through   

                         clouds.  

  

Its silent,  

       except the noise.  

         It parades   through the grass,   

 but only I can hear.           I wanted   

       to be left alone. He left,   

        but it turned out   

                     I was terrible company.  

  

Ever notice “sky” is   

       singular?    As if it is one thing.  

              I lay in the field,  

   with no ceilings,         no floors.  

             The sky isn't above.  

 The sky is everywhere, everything.  

                       Tonight, it's enough.