Stargazers

A handful of togethers
Thrown into the inky skyllet*
Hoping to be moon-heated just right.
Over time they all sputter and scatter.
A few pop, fizzle, char and
Get lost in the depthless dark.
But look! Many have warmed
Sparkling alight with flicker-beats
To last lifetimes, hopefully our both!
All those nebulous togethers,
Of written words and spoken,
Confessions silent, but for our eyes;
Have ripened, cored and aligned
Into a constellation of pulsars-
Of conversing stars.
 
Come, let’s be stargazers!

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*skyllet - a play on the words sky and skillet 
pulsars- they emit constant radio waves, thus hypothetically they could be conversing.