Another, for her

When the stars come out to play
My tired mind wanders to her

I wonder if she thinks of me
When the house is quiet

Does the moon look the same, down there on the coast?
Do the craters form your freckles like I see them here?

Maybe she weeps exactly when I do
But I wonder if she feels this helpless.

Or maybe the smoke clouds her thinking
And I'm merely background static in her head