Dmetrystar Here

Tonight, step outside. Turn your back on the famous constellations. Let your eyes go soft. Wait. If you're lucky — or unlucky, depending on what you left behind — you'll see it.

You find it on no known chart. The astronomers pass over it; the sailors never steer by it. But at certain hours — just before true dark, when the horizon softens into violet ash — it flickers into being: . dmetrystar

Maybe it's a dying star from a universe that ended yesterday, its last photon tunneling through the crack in reality's door. Maybe it's a lantern carried by someone looking for you in the dark, someone whose name you've forgotten but whose hand you would still recognize. Tonight, step outside