If you were to float in space with your head tilted back and your arms spread wide you would spin somewhat slowly. And stars would rain down upon you.
The stars would slice right through you and your body would be filled with burning bourn after bourn of life that like liquid lingers. Then you would heal and you would turn again. Always turning. Of course this would take time.
I think of this body covered in deep tunnels from stars burning bright and paths slightly unwavering and I can see through it to those that have gone before and in a moment again at those still to come.
These stars are the people that impact upon you. Why their bodies aren’t floating in this analogy I don’t know, but they are stars here and they spark like fire and they shoot through your life within indeterminate distances of your heart. Somewhere else you are burning likewise through them.
They enter you and they leave you and if you’re lucky some small part of them stays with you. Always.
My uncle died today. His path burned straight through my chest and his star has gone to places that he believed in. I am turning slowly and I am watching him go.