Midnight. Respite from the heat. Coffee, with milk. No sugar. Life is sweet. Naked, sitting in the MilkyWay. Does Sirius care, or Castor wonder or Betelgeuse blush?
It must be an accepted fact then. Coffee, naked, in the MilkyWay.
I realise I am not round. I am odd. All the big things are round. I am small. I do think. I think so. Do they? Are big thoughts round? Going round and round.
Dogs bark at night. They know the MilkyWay. There must be other dogs up there. Why else would they bark? Even on cloudy nights they bark. Prove me wrong. Ask your dog.
Three times I saw the wand of light. Meteors that burnt bright. I soaked my rusk. I bent my head. I bent my fingers. I caught it just before it fell apart. I have to bend. My thoughts bend too. Where does bending go? It comes back to you.
Between one star and another there is lots of space to cover. Even to Jupiter and Mars. The grass is wet. I am entranced by all the stars. Am I just a visitor from somewhere far? Naked on a chair in the MilkyWay. Drinking coffee at midnight. Magic, I say.
The whole sky had moved. It was the deep of the night. The chair was now empty. The stars were still bright. I went searching for you. Sometime after coffee at midnight. Naked, in the MilkyWay.