There are stars on the ceiling
Of the room we painted
For you
In pastel colors
And covered with
The softest carpet
Because
We couldn’t give you the sky
For your own
But we wanted to show you
What you could have
If you wanted
You can’t reach it from here
You’ll have to go
To other rooms
Of steel and glass
Gypsum drywall
Painted eggshell
And hardwood floors
(If you’re lucky)
With harsh, flickering light
And harsh, unfeeling words
Spoken by mouths with sharp teeth
Framing sharper tongues
Eyes that squint through slitted lids
Cruel and cold
And judging
Hands pulling you down
Pushing you back
To where you came from
But that is the nature of the path
That winds its way
To the highest places
Where the moon and satellites
Brush your fingertips
And the whole world’s
Within reach
Beautiful
But razor-keen with frost
We cannot give you the sky
But the carpet is soft
And the paint is soft
And the floating stars
On the ceiling
Are bright
And these walls are hard
And strong
For the times
You fall back
To Earth
