Deep and Curling Inceptions

The stars are in the water tonight, The water is soft and black, a cat curling round my bare arms. The water is a cistern, the night sky is a lake, my arms are a prayer that compose with the help of a hundred drowned stars. Only a few lights now shinning in this deep well, but those few are melding and making, knitting new coats for all the unseen cats that sleep and dream of a new reality, one that first arrives as a dream, only to be, in due time, the world itself when just some of those stars align.