He was made from stardust - the sparkling, enticing entities that look upon our world, he knew them. He knew how to dance with the stars in their cold light. He knew their names, each of them, and their woeful songs, spun from eons of wistful tears. He knew their faces, stolen from them by a sea of space and empty distance. He heard the moon whisper to him on a clear night, spinning a silvery web of sorrow as she inched away, and he sang his sorrows back to her. Yes - he was made of stardust - enviable, shining, cruelly beautiful. And just as stars are not destined to meet our little world, he was not destined to stay here.
