I know that you think of me as a satellite circling your brilliant sun.
You call me into your orbit when you want others to see your twinkling star.
And then you can dismiss me to return to your eclipse, blocked from the light
left in the dark space where you don’t think of me.
What you don’t know is that behind you, in that black space, I am part of a constellation
you never even knew existed.
Others can actually be drawn to the flickering light inside of me that shines out
creating a prism of color from all the facets I possess.
Even the surfaces that you have cracked and dirtied
when you threw your hidden ugliness
at me that you didn’t want others to see can be transformed by the right play
of light that others have been willing to share with me from themselves.
You can’t see that inside me because all you want to see is yourself
reflected back from my surface.
It’s all you want others to see as well.
It’s okay, but oh, if you could only see…