In the sepulchral serenade of the cosmos, beneath a blanket of burning diamonds, lies a tale untold. Whispers from the nebulous arches, where the silvery crescent bubbles amid languid shadow. A child danced on stardust; her giggle, a comet's trail. What tune would she twine into the finitude?
He appeared between the verses of a cosmic sonnet, woven amid star strands by an unseen poet. An echo from the echo, a pursuit without destination. Their paths kissed only in the darting lights of dying suns, where once tethered spirits hung in celestial crystalline glass.
"Would you not steal the kiss of tomorrow?" asked the comet's child, eyes glazed with nebula rain. In the whispered eons, silence dared laugh; time itself paused.