How Many

At the forest’s edge
Counting how many
Stars are there, there
Stuck onto a needle

Sapped sticky like a
Pointing fingertip lit
Up in knowledge of
Those constellations

Puddled in corners
Of eyes wiped as if
That site didn’t just
Mirror every dream

Or whispered wished
Upon a time shining
Brighter in the night
By the full moon light

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