My room has stars. The last moments when sleep takes over and darkness sets in, they whisper the last goodnight. Their florescence make me smile each night and I ponder somenights gazing endlessly into the fligree cups running amuck in the window of my already dreaming mind. I haven't even slept yet and the weaving has started. I imagine small elves sprinkling glittery sleep dust just like in the children's book that said so on New Year's first night. I recede and let the twinkle settle in. I sleep. I feel the stars looking down at me through the eyelids. I feel safe. I still hold wonder in my heart.