Dmetrystar Instant

Those who glimpse dmetrystar never speak of it the same way. One says it hummed — low, like a cello string plucked in an empty hall. Another says it smelled of rain on hot pavement and the inside of an old clock. A third insists it moved when they looked away, tracing a slow, deliberate arc toward the place where their childhood bedroom used to be.

Tonight, step outside. Turn your back on the famous constellations. Let your eyes go soft. Wait. If you're lucky — or unlucky, depending on what you left behind — you'll see it. dmetrystar

Here’s a short, evocative piece on the theme — treating it as a name, a mood, or a lost constellation. dmetrystar Those who glimpse dmetrystar never speak of it the same way