Above us:             

                 the stars are endless pinpricks
They are sharp and bright- far away and close enough to leave a scar



Next to me:

                           you,  all fuzzy sweater, mittens and clove  

my breath on your back,  chin on your shoulder  



Below us

                        two stories down there is 

                         traffic:   swirling mix of motion, lights and  danger   









thanks to Auspice for the title