Sand, flowing through my fingers.
Glistening onyx grains walking catwalk,
from rich mahogany fingers to
reunite with the onyx blanket,
kissing the crushing clear waves.

I wonder if the stars,
so high up, get kisses.
From what? Asteroids or radiation?

More stars than Earth’s sands.

Picking up more onyx glitter,
expecting heaviness of a star.
Gravity of a star, pulling,
to pull my hand down.

Coarse onyx beads are light.
Are gas giants this light,
up there looking so bright?
Unlike this beautiful black sand.

More stars than Earth’s sand.

I wonder if the stars wish
they could be as unique
as this pretty onyx sand.

So what if there are
ore stars than Earth’s sand?

A factoid, like an asteroid,
serving to bring cosmic dread.
A reminder of how small,
how Earth, a sand grain,
means less as the factoid,

Squishable like the onyx sand
underneath my pretty painted toes.