Andromeda

Crescent moon and clear skies, she sat underneath and looked. Always looked, for thinking scarred her, saying pained her. So, she looked. Looked at the walls, the floor. The lace of her dress, the yellow of her hair. She looked at the chains, she looked at the bars. The darkness, the silence.

She looked up.

Through the cement she saw the same darkness, the same silence. But the night sky was free, the night sky was home. Her home was beautiful and calm, her home was with lovely Andromeda.

Crescent moon and clear skies, she was a fallen star.