Stripping of Star Capes

Sleep with me under the afghan of stars illuminary milk pouring out of heaven's jars A storm of sliding satellites colliding can be ours as we ribbon out our lives in whispered stories. ~Whisking up of ink in your eyes white peppered mint while our breath entrances frost on the eve of night fall's wrist We are still intangible, first here, but than a mist as vagrant as sweet stars in their last glory. Shoulders hug the trees with their limbs limp silhouette while we strip translucent star capes to their bows with no regret Moon beam pure explosions to beget and to beget the light with which we pine for now in haste~ Sleep with me under the myriads of minds which slept here before us and whispered in kind We will be stardust ourselves you will find as our wings of illusion unravel.