A starry, starry night

in

Pinpricks of starlight scatter across the sable skies.

This reminds him of diamonds sparkling against a cloth of black cotton. Hauntingly beautiful.

Nowadays, he feels the need to look skywards, to see the movement of celestial bodies, to appreciate the effects of eddying winds on clouds.

Why?

He wants to know why. A compulsive need to understand?

And, naturally, he doesn't know why. (Why would he wonder why if he already knows the reason why?)

Perhaps it's because he wants to reach out and feel the pulsing warmth of the stars in his bare hands. (He imagines stars to be able to emit a comfortable radiant heat by themselves). Stars aren't bio-luminous, are they? Perhaps it's because the concrete scaffolding around him has seeded a longing for the organic rhythm of celestial orbs. Perhaps, it's simply because he likes to see.

Yes, perhaps, that is so. Perhaps, he just wants to see.

He just wants to see. And that, is reason enough.

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