Nightschool

One night
on a bleached-out beach chair in the middle of suburbia
that person looked across the sky
blankly
searching for nothing
And the stars accepted those expectations
took that person out of her
though she didn't see the loss

There had been two, once
Blindly holding hands in the dark
because they were supposed to
Straining for order in the dusty heavens
He, good catholic boy sent into the wide world
terrified that god was dead
She, laughing
because she'd known for oh so long
that he'd never lived
anyway

I know so much less now

The night draws paper leaves across the still pond
and I pull my wrap closer
looking blankly at confetti skies
I had made sense of this once
just once
I know less now

and the stars accept this resignation
take me out of me
and the loss
lets me fly

----------

Remember being young, in love, and knowing everything? And then remember learning (however it came about for you) that you don't know everything after all?

There's freedom in accepting that you're not the ultimate power in the universe.

And what is? Well, everyone needs to decide that for themselves. Don't you think?