And I kept thinking about how sky is a singular noun, as if it's one thing. But the sky isn't one thing. The sky is everything. And last night, it was enough.

I kept thinking about how the sky is a singular noun, as if it's one thing. But the sky isn't one thing. The sky is everything. And last night, it was enough.

Davis and I have never talked much, or even looked at each other, but it didn't matter, because we were looking at the same sky together, which is maybe more intimate than eye contact anyways.

Something about looking up always makes me feel like I'm falling.

But you want to see shapes; you want to see stories, so you pick them out of the sky.

The sky is like a monochromatic contemporay painting, drawing me in its illusion of depth, pulling me up.