I always

believed

in bright

falling stars,

and I still

wish for them

no matter how far.

 

In the plane

or in the car

I touch

the window

lost

in my own

memoir.

From my

headphones

rises the sound of

a guitar,

it easily reaches

my lonely

scar.

 

I wonder

where you are,

if I can close

my hope

of your

existence

forever in

a glassy jar.

 

But

tonight

I will keep

waiting

for my

falling star.