She has a skylight

She has a skylight.
Invites me over.
We gaze up at it.
Daylight streaming;
___bright blue sky, relentless

She says,
“Sometimes I sleep out here,
___just to look up at it.”
And I say,
“You’ll have to invite me over
___sometime
___I’d like to see that.”

She never did.
Not me, anyway.
I wonder what eyes
___saw what constellations
___through that sweat-fogged eye.