Poem: Bright and Hollow Sky

I'm staring as a passenger, staring at the bright sky of city lights,
the hollow sky of light not its own, but singing dull, a dome
of bright and hollow hope.

There's no stars coming out tonight, nothing shining tonight
the bright and hollow sky like a snow globe keeping us in,
swirling no stars and fatigue like water swirling outside the car
we're passengers in.

You hold my hand, sweat building where our skin touches,
singing whispers to the music from the car radio, but I'm staring
with my head out the window not hearing anything but the wind
keeping my vomit in, and staring at the bright and hollow sky
remembering how we danced, how you sang in my ear,
and how I hoped to see the stars tonight.