at first there was an itch
an itch that wasn’t there before
and no hand to scratch it
so a fire had to do
to contain the itch
but the fire grew out of control
it burned without oxygen to consume
and its ashes became a fine mist
and the drops coalesced into diamonds
the first stars
and they sang with voice
but there was no air
and there was no one to hear
——
It’s National Poetry Writing Month!
Day 19
Check out these sites:
Words and Feathers 
I bet there are a million universes like this. It’s like those reality shows about storage boxes – you open a million universes before you get one that’s worth its salt. It also works – on a woe is me day – as a metaphor for creative arts (but not poetry obviously!).
Thanks! Cosmic Lets Make a Deal. I wonder who the sucker was that got stuck with this one.
LOL So itchy! (however starry) 🙂