A poem to my collector of stars

Here I am writing poems  to the ghost once more.

The ones that wail in the space
where my heart once lived.
Where sadness dwells in oceans.
And longing drowns in their depths.
Let the ink spill from my quill in blue words
like veins onto the white paper.
Once you collected all the stars
from the galaxy.
You pressed them into my eager hands.
To guide you through 
All the darkness of lifeyou said.

How could I ever stop the gods
from taking you away?
The one who could collect stars.
When you left I folded my heart
into a love letter.
And slipped it quietly into your soul.
To take with you to eternity.

I promised myself to stop
writing to the ghost.
But they are all the
comfort that remains,

So I write to them one more time.
As the dying embers of your stars
fade in my hands one by one.