There was magic in the stars that night.
The last time I saw them they were dead, just cold lights in the sky.
Now they danced without movement. They danced to a rhythm that was their own, following an ancient tune only they could hear.
But who made the stars dance?
Was it her, with her wisp of a smile? Was it him with the light gone from his eyes?
Or was it me with my pattering heart, filled to the brim with bubbling starlight?
That night I fell asleep to the rhythm of the stars.