The brightness would burn you right up
but maybe in your yielding, you’d, for once,
accept the energy of passing hope, searing
away the painful bits, cauterizing the
secrets until they cannot be unfolded
in the dark of night. I think you wish to
keep the stars at bay, secrets being as
loyal a companion as they may. They do not
recklessly go racing across the sky in a fiery
and dramatic goodbye (Who knew stars were such
divas?) when at long-last the life collapses
within them.