Your skyline might look like the stars ignited
In the heat of a million beating hearts racing the dark
Becoming a brightness broken by buildings so tall they disappear
Your skyline might look like star shine on red rocks
So bright that when you stand before dawn and God with a camp mug in your hands,
The Milky Way can practically cream your coffee
I’m certain I don’t know
But I believe in imagination,
and sometimes believing is seeing.