SCENE FOUR
A dream (or a memory?) of a meeting, somewhere, sometime, that is forever floating lost and forgotten in the Cosmo.
[Enter MOON-CHILD and STAR-BOY]
💫
Star dust speckles her rosy cheeks as his breath warms her face. He's talking, she watches his lips move — galaxies explode within his eyes — his voice is a sweet, ringing melody in her ears. They're stood by the pillars of an archaic existence, sandy storms and orange hues consume her eye-sight and she revels in it, "there's no future for a place like this," he whispers into her ear, words stringing in melancholy.
"I know, I've seen it." The words are soft and sad as they roll off her tongue. She stares at the palace in front of her — unbeknownst to the living — and her eyes well with a mosaic of a thousand pictures showing a fractured future.
I've seen it all.
YOU ARE READING
the universe tremors as the moon-child weeps milky tears
Poetrylove me star-boy, whispers the moon-child.
