The stars were dripping slowly or something, and I wanted to taste them on my tongue, but the trees were greedy that night and stole them from me. And though the stars kept dripping the whole night through, the trees would have more than their fill or their fill was never full, so I stood with emptying eyes and only watched, still and silent.

That night the bones came out with baggy eyes, and I wanted to pour the dripping stars there, but the bones were too scared and the trees too thirsty, so the bones' eyes remained empty.

And when he touched me with his long boney finger or his long finger bone, I listened.

You are me, he spoke, but I was not him.

I told him so.

He spoke, You wonder why I am lonely, child. I am you. But you do not realize that when we are separated, I am separated. The branch that cracked and fell to the ground withers because it is alone and lonely, not because it is detached.

"Oh," I said, and I had no speak, only words.

He touched me again but I could not feel him because my eyes were too empty, and the stars were still dripping but I could not see them because the sky was too dark.

"Where are they?" I asked because the stars were hidden from me. "Why aren't they here?" and my words were so loud that the world was indented.

I was cold in my belly. My eyes were emptying.

"I need warmth!" I cried.

Then you can have it, he spoke to me with his wordless speak, then you can have it.

But I could not find it and desperately I told him so.

He spoke, Look behind you to look forward. Look behind you but do not go behind you. Then you will find for what it is that you are looking.

My eyes searched behind me but they could not see, and then he was gone, and I was alone.

There would be a time when I would speak, creating feeling, carving the smoldering embers where my eyes once were, now deserted--
but now was not that time.