She rolled
under the stars -
crystal air,
cold,
white and blue
and bleeding
jewels
her riches.

She rolled
under the stars,
the smell
of evenings
and
the beginning
of summer air
her hills.

She rolled
under the stars
that she
could
almost touch
but never
could quite
do so.

Reaching
out
to touch
the light,
the bruises,
the blood,
the coldness
in the sky.

She rolled
and rolled
under the stars,
feeling
the pain
yet the
inexplicable joy
the stars had.

She rolled
and rolled
and rolled
on hills
made from
mornings'
and evening'
smells

with stars
as
her companions
under the stars;
riches
all around her,
but nothing
comparing
to the richness
that was
always
with her.