In this city
There are no stars in the sky.
Just you and I.
So we make do.

Under my umbrella
That we found in the recesses of my father's closet,
Flashlights dug from the basement
We plopped on the foot of my bed.
We peaked out from
Under my umbrella.

"The rain has stopped,"
To the silence I say.
"Let's see if the stars are out,"
Along with me you play.

Our laugh ricochets
Off the walls
Back to our ears.
And we pretend
To not hear the pounding fists
To not see the window rattle
To not remember the hurricane
In our lives.
And we pretend
Our laugh was eternal.

Flashlights flicked on.
Two fluorescent halos
Shining in the wooden sky.
"I am the sun,"
My yellow light claims.
"I am the moon."
My yellow light wanes.
"I am a star."
I snatch a mini flashlight from beneath my pillow.
"Well I am the sky."
You flourish your light from one corner of the sky to the other.

"Cheater,"
I protest.
"Why, I would never cheat on you!"
Our laugh echoes
Off the walls.

In this city
There are no other stars.
Just you and I
And a storm screaming outside.