You remind me of a star
Beautiful, radiant, vibrant.
Incandescence spilling out all around them, bright, enduring, attractive light. I love looking at them. Men try to hold them as if they could handle the temperament of a star. They try to reach out and grasp them, an effort in vain. And yet here you are in front of me. Composed of the same material, exuding the same properties as the stars. Beautiful radiant, vibrancy. Uncontainable incandescence spilling all around you. Warm to the touch, impossible to grasp. Bringing light to dark. To be near them would be a great comfort, to hold them and feel their heat would be an incomparable experience. Being burned by proximity, a gift. To know you would bring with it profound meaning.
But stars are fleeting, temporary, interrupted by the harsh glow of the sun. I'm quite fond of stars, every night staring up like a daydream.
I'd much rather take in the radiance of the moon and stars, than the rays of sun.
I could be content staring up at them, but I want to know them. Every day when the sun comes up, the stars fade from my view once again. I drift through the day without purpose or reason, without the presence of the stars. I think of them all the time. All I can do is wait around again for night to fall, so once again I can gaze with wonder at the light of the stars. To reach out and try to grasp them once again, vainly, foolishly.
