The hope that dwindled with every dusk ever rose with each new day.

With the darkened suspense of a sunless night, her eyes floated amongst the stars.

Never fixed on a point in space, her gaze was locked on the in between;

Like her mind and like her soul, like the space between her slowing heartbeats.

 

They used to wander beneath the stars, claiming the days between the days.

When many walked through mind-spun worlds, they danced along in the empty space.

Though the world was still as full, it seemed deserted for the star sewn two.

Souls at peace in ill-lit fellowship, their minds grew brighter with each soiree.

 

So bright were the beams of their souls, that the hidden horizon burst with envy.

Cutting short the tails of their heartstrings, yet never catching the rope between

Garish daylight could not wear at the chain, for it was sewn by star light.

 

Then the nights became full of shadow, no longer filled with sweet openness.

Other winds called them to other things, stars were seen through glass barred panes.

Suddenly the heartstrings were worn by sun light and exposed to the world.

It's tender nature flinched away and shrunk into a delicate strand.

 

To risk the tearing of such a bond was worse than unhooking the chain.

They agreed to leave the rope with the moon and with the stars.

It can be found with each renewed night, though it's bearers are harder sought.

Only together can they re-anchor the chain to the empty loops upon their breasts.

 

So now she sits, awaiting days when he might enter in.

And walk with her into the night to re-establish faith.

The days anxious, the nights nostalgic, the dusk regretful.

When again will the dawn be jealous?

When again will the stars be home?

When again will the bond be anchored?

When again will the night seem bright?