Space Man

He hunches by a melancholy flame, one teeming like a thousand thoughts awry, a nagging urge coerces him to claim, a stark conclusion hidden in the sky. He stares into the desolate expanse, a jet black of most paltry self esteem, but in it hopeful bodies skip and prance, like flabbergasted minds they vainly gleam, remain aloof yet positively near, the stillness heard but never seen or thought, dance lucidly but never seem so clear, with pirouettes always amount to naught. He stares into the space and sees himself, A sentiment that only he has felt.