Star hunter
I have never imagined that I would be a star hunter. No, I’m not talking about the stars that wander in the sky. But I’ve found these stars inside people who, I didn’t know, were able to detect them. In fact, throughout my life I’ve lived moments of pleasure when embracing bodies whisper through smiles and groans before taking me in their beloved arms. I’ve heard people saying they could see stars and actually I could see them reproduced in people’s eyes during these extreme moments of enjoyment.
More than a star hunter, ever since, I’ve become a hunter of skies drawn in black, white, brown skins of different textures, moving my hands full of hair of many colours and scents. As if I were on a tail of a comet that carries me throughout the darkness in space… me, the guy who wanted to hunt stars.
I produced them, I thought, inside my arrogance of a sun that wandered through the firmament with avid eyes looking for the stars that were close to me while I heard other whispers.
The trip lasted a time, and the sun that I thought was eternal found few stars. Other star hunters appeared and I identified them through the looks that they addressed to the new stars. They were as avid to hunt for them as me. Stars that were born in their renewed youths.
When I arrived at the end of my universe that I thought was infinite, I could observe other suns that were wandering around me. I asked if they had seen the stars that I was chasing. They didn’t respond to me and I thought they were satisfied in their solitary walking.
There, in the infinite of my destiny, looking at the story that I lived while I was hunting stars, I found out that the firmament wasn’t made by stars. Beyond them there were suns which I imagined alone, stood up there, solid and strong. I noted that they were proud and around them there were planets and moons, their partners to divide the nights.
Then, those always bright moons were the manufacturers of the stars in which my eyes didn’t cause emotions enough.
For a long time I chased stars that fascinated me. I didn’t see the moons plenty of clarity and their phases, sometimes illuminated, sometimes wan or hidden. They were the stars of the real life. They didn’t exist only to fill our fantasies, but they turned our fantasies into reality inside the eternal wish to create stars.
Photo from: Photo by Khamkéo Vilaysing on Unsplash
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