For You, I'd Eat The Sky

 For you, I'd eat the sky

If the stars should fall from the sky,
I would catch them, and put them in a little jar.
A million, billion, trillion sparkles of phosphorescent insects.
Colours the like I'd never seen.

And under my bed they would stay,
A cosmos of crawling things.
One by one I would eat them,
Sweet, like honey, I feel them in my tummy,
Writhing and burning, their light filling me up.

I devour them all.
Each leg, each wing, each antennae.
I would have them for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
On toast with jam, in soup, on leg of lamb.

And once they're gone, the moon I'd lay my eye,
A great hive of illuminous Araneae,
And nibble on their webs of silken light.
Every leg, every pincer,
I'd drink their venom,
I'd eat the moon in all its splendour.  

The celestial dome is a slab of black marble,
No light, no fire, satellite or probe.
That is how I'd leave it,
This is how you left me.
For your love was my light
For you, I'd eat the sky.