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I worry about the stars, I wonder if when I see them they might already be gone. I worry that after restlessly shifting in the night, they'll wake up and find themselves lost and confused after moving. I worry that their hallucinations, that seeing those around them burn up and die will cause them to vanish sooner still.

They keep me awake at night, staring, whispering. Humming to myself as they peek across over the neighbor's fence to greet me, fighting the awful orange glow from her light outside that does nothing but attract the moths and makes the shelter dog howl which keeps me awake.

Their cheeks flush with embarrassment when they hide from the roar of the train that goes my by house in the night. The familiarity of the gears sparks fire in my heart and I turn over to cool pillow to keep my veiled emotions from bubbling over. I'm still draped in this light, I can't let them see me weak. The worry is better one-sided, and so is our love.

I'm so afraid to tell them how I love their way. The curtains in my room disappear when they do, and I long for night then, I long for the time when they'll leak through my blinds again and hug my covers. I'm so afraid to tell them. I'm afraid that with this distance, afraid that when I leap I'll miss them, fall through their arms, or maybe just turn their back, or maybe like before I'll just be too late and they'll have just completely faded out of life by the time I get there.

I love when they frustrate me into insomnia, when they keep me up until the clock reads two forty-three and I'm wide awake, too tired to be tired anymore, lying in a dazed, crumpled mess on my bed. I look as though I have fallen, partially wrapped in cloth. The blankets bleed out of my side, but a smile graces my lips as I let myself slip into peace for a few hours.

The stars don't worry me when I sleep, however, for I know that they're there. And like a child to a security blanket, my only concern is finding the chilled rumple of sheets to grab, loving the chills down my spine in the early hours of the day, awake enough to decide to stay where I am, at peace, but asleep enough as to not disturb this heaven. I worry about the stars yes, but I will not cry until there is a day that they no longer shine, a day that I doubt I will ever see, for they worry about me too. I just know it.