You are made of stars; of light and energy and an unceasing warmth that radiates from the depths of your soul to the tips of your fingertips as they trace my hand, slowly drawing circles on the tendons that crisscross underneath the layers of skin stretched over a hand that fits perfectly in yours. You are made of stars, and I am too, and so is the grass we’re lying on and the trees around us and the sky above us. Perhaps, we can lie here together and watch our noble ancestors, and somehow learn that not only are we made of stars, but we will become them, engraved forever in the heavens. Someday, it will all fade to black, our hands and our warmth and our love, but we will be the stars, bright specks against an empty black, a reminder for those yet to come. They too are made of light and energy and an unceasing warmth that is meant to be shared, they too can be an inspiration for all who will fade away.