One day, I found a piece of the night sky. So, I bundled it up to make a cloak. I was wreathed in stars, spun from the very beginning of the Universe itself, locked in a cycle from before the beginning until after the end.
It's thread was thinner than a spider's web strand, but thicker then love. It was just wide enough for eternity, and slightly less long than infinity. It was a bit too big for me, no matter how I grew. But that was okay, since I liked layering the swaths of fabric against my skin. It had a hood that didn't like the light very much. It was deep enough so that all one could see of my face might have been my mouth, but that didn't matter too much because I would know if I was about to bump into something. It would move as I did, unrestricted and bound at the same time.
When it moved, it whispered of worlds beyond the beyond, past our sight and to the first left or right. It whispered of star's light and holes so large that even bright beams of light would get trapped inside. It spoke of things that always were and always will be, or perhaps of things that have just been around for longer than I. It whispered of fate to the listening ear, and of destiny inbetween. It would speak of dying ashes reborn into glorious beings, rising up again from the old ones remains.
But it was never meant to stay with me forever. In between one travel and the next between a world much like this one and another a bit like the rings of Jupiter, it fell off of my thin frame. And it disappeared into the vast sky from whence it came. I turned back only once, and tried my best to make my eyes spot it, but it was long gone. It was only meant to stay just long enough to always carry a piece of the sky in my heart.
And so, here I am now, a child with a piece of the sky lodged in-between the blood and walls of my heart, looking upwards.