Traces of Stardust

Absentmindedly you pick stars
from the fabric around your legs,
scratch the moon of your elbow,
wondering
how those scars
have been traced by comets
across the hollow of your neck
when you wear scarves all the times
you sneak out to take a pinch of stardust,
just enough
to keep your wrists perfumed in sparkles
until the early afternoon.