Stars

Every little thing talk
to me.
The little butterflies, the blue sky.

The sun talks to me.
I can't believe that you don't want me to want the stars.
Haven't you see how they shine?!

Can I take them without the moon?

I'm not even asking for a first and last dance with her...

I only wanna dance a bals with the stars in your eyes, 'till I die.

Can I place them there?

Will their grey light burn me up?

I know their light have a shallow taste....

Why did you let that desire get into my heat?

I'm sorry for saying this shallows words, 
but I want some grey light in my sky.

Is that so bad?

Please, just stay, can we dance in the grey stardust?