Why do the stars look very different today?

in the deep, where oil is water
lives little longing sparks of hope.
on the surface lives curiosity
whose bones make a man
longing for hope, to touch or to feel.
everything around him listens
and draws itself closer to wrapping
him and squeezing his outside until
it melts into a cloud of loss.
so many colours but the eye pick blue
so many thoughts but my heart skip you.
so
I look
to the sky
only to see nothing

Ruddapoet