The Stars on the Ceiling

I'd give you the stars if I could. I would pull them down from the sky and put them in tiny little jars to lay scattered about your room, where you can look at them and maybe think of me in the dark. I would plaster them on my ceiling so, while we lay in bed, our bodies entwined as much as our minds, our hearts, our souls, we can watch the Universe spinning across the make-shift sky above us and think about how small we are in the grand scheme of things. And I would tell you that we are very small in the midst of all of these very big things, and that I would rather be small in the midst of all these very big things with you than with anybody else in the world.