Constellation

The sound of laughter, the allure of dancing eyes, of promises and words, the ease of friends, the unspoken commitment of lovers, and the bright stars you placed in the palm of my hand.

“Why would I need stars?”

“One star won’t do. You need a few, you need a constellation. It’ll remind you of us,” you grinned at me. Challenging me to argue with you, as you loved to do. Would I rise to the challenge? Your eyes dared me, and I thought to myself, if I could hold you in place, keep you, preserve you, I wouldn’t need any stars.

“Stay where you are,” I said, and reached for my phone, snapping pictures of you, as you threw your head back, laughing at my obsessiveness.

“A constellation looks different from every angle. But you’ll always find me. Depend on your imagination, but also look for signs. Trace the pattern,” you whispered.

“Like this?” I reached for you.

“Do you know why people wear a ring on this finger?” you asked.

“I wouldn’t know, but I’m sure there’s a story,” I said, listening intently.

“It’s connected, all the way to your heart. Here,” you said, tracing every inch, creating our very own constellation.

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