Stars That Never Rain

The other day, I thought about writing to you about you.

Nothing filled up that was worth letting go

Caught up in the process

I started with your name, spelt wrongly

and out of the line; precisely the kindgarten way

next I drew you and I holding hands but staring into different directions, perhaps aiming at little stars that never rain

Drawn out of desperate and angry looking fingers

Your face disfigured with patches of black spots and undone make up.

You should flip---

You would see the next page softened with ink poured accidentally but intentionally left to spread