I have never been stargazing,
that I can remember.
Certainly, I've looked up at the stars
in wonder, but
that isn't what makes stargazing so special,
is it?
It is one of those rare moments,
the ones we don't talk about,
when you and I are guaranteed to be on the same page;
after all, the page is too vast,
too interesting, too enveloping,
not to see, to read, to engross ourselves in entirely.
It is one of those rare moments
in which, not a word having been spoken,
we communicate more meaningfully than we have
in years. A lifetime, even.
This is stargazing.
It is done not with the eyes looking skyward; no,
that is but context, pretext.
It is done, rather, with the longing
pseudopods of the soul, stretching laterally
towards you,
over the dew-spotted grass between us.
But how should I know?
After all, I have never bee