September 05, 2024
I dropped a grain of my stardust in a crowd of clovers. It ran in the wilderness of those towering wishes. It disappeared in the madness of search. I am anxious that it has to be this way. I am hopeful that it has found the way. But I am certain that I have lost it. The stardust has left a space that suffocates to be felt. The blank craves to be loud, to be a bother, to smother and quake my sentiments. Therefore, I yearn for a four leaf clover where my lost stardust slumbers.
But holding a four leaf clover is a hunter's craft, and I, a vegetarian, am a terrible fighter. Ten times, I have drawn closer, and each time, I admired a bit harder- only to never conquer. With a dew on my thin lashes, I scavenge for the four leaf clover. I have these feelings that hover. For there is a blank in my existence that inquire for the stardust.
Yours even as I fear to be.
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