Stars

Mind like an acrobat She sways precariously back and forth with the constant influx of travelers Who never seem to stay more than a night Part with their cynical phrases And compare her to a trapeze She is the calico feline that hides In the woodpile for fear of being known The nights have long since turned frigid The aroma of death Is what gives her away Too late now to be saved Imperfections in the sky Draw weary eyes to gaze upon them Amplified in the freckles on her face Pinpricks on the vast unknown Flaming balls of unknown chaos Look like stars to the naked eye