These white lights will bend to make blue

It upsets me that you can't see the stars in l.a. I lay in my favourite spot tonight, with my favourite boy, and i looked up into the sky. i counted 6 stars. six. in the entire sky. if i could bring one thing from england to here, id bring the house. the house and the garden, with he sky above it. jet black, not midnight blue, and freckled with millions of stars, shooting stars, wishing stars, comets. if I could see a decent star to wish upon here, id wish to bring that here to me. i was always too scared to be outside at night when i was younger, but now, id sit on the swing, and id count them all. And if no star was powerful enough to bring sandbarn to malcolm, then id wish for a complete powerout in l.a. no lights anywhere, just for a little while, so i could go up and sit, head resting on his lap, counting the shooting stars as the smoke drifts out of exsistence.