Across the tapestry of the cosmos, the stars weave a story - An epistle etched in ethereal luminescence, fluttering like whispers from a silken past.
The phantom limb of the galaxy reaches forth, penumbral fingers tracing the contours of forgotten constellations, a touch that speaks in languages long unspoken, caressing the boundless void with its memory.
Listen, dear wanderer, to the echoes of this astral orchestra: contact the nebulae, where each note shifts the fabric of time, altering destinies with invisible hands.
The celestial waltz continues, choreographed by unseen forces, as you remain tethered by dreams to this grand ballet. Let them be your guide.
I speak not of memories etched in flesh but those inscribed in the ether, binding you to a universe too vast to fathom, too beautifully ludicrous to endure without awe.