Star-eyed

I can't see with these porcelain stars in my eyes.
I walk about, glass-eyed,
Constellations in my eyes
Bumping into the furniture
Savoring sweet, tinkling elation.

I look to my legs, my arms,
"What are these purple things I see?" I ask.
"Do you not remember, you careless thing?
Has glitter-all blinded you to sense entirely?"
I cannot see with these stars in my eyes.