Stars

To me about you as it counts the stars and frequently even excessively mainly there, it is you. The stars I have known, have consisted of only one thing, threes and sevens. Stars without you, 'That star does not show, 'at all in me-And you look at everything. When I see, the star dispersed about dawn it sings of mourning, 'concerning your head. The star which is you I have not met, under any condition, therefore as for me, when I think of that which you spoke concerning you, however long is the way and I directly, 'never with you, can I speak of it, 'excessively, you do not have to appear, yet when you do, and watching I wait.