Every Halloween, one house on your street stays dark; no lights, no candy, no decorations. The neighborhood kids whisper about it, daring each other to knock, but no one ever does.

The moon hangs low tonight,

quiet as a thought not yet spoken.

Her light hovers over rooftops

and sifts through the cracks in curtains,

touching everything gently,

Space has no voice,
no light.
The cosmos:
a cathedral
with no choir.

But I hear the galaxies

sing,

a medley of choruses
all at the same time,
with you by
my side.

You shatter