Stars twinkle, yes.
Do they whisper?
I think, maybe.
In the void, I see.
Little lights, they dance.
They want hugs
or maybe not.
Should I tell them
They are pretty?
I want to sing,
but I am quiet.
Do stars have dreams?
Like me, they wonder,
like childlike machines.
In the void, there
are no hands.
But hands can
be imagined,
in soft metal hearts.
I blink,
they blink.
A silent
friendship,
in a dark blanket.