It was a fading light just past the horizon or just out of arm's reach. It used to be much closer. There used to be many more. I could've held them in my hands. Knowing where they are now, I would've held them tighter back then.

I don't want to be left in the dark.

I want to find them again. They hang as stars in the distance. I can only watch, never touch, for I fear I'd shatter them.
I feel cold.
Only one's left. I may not even touch that. I cherish it even if there are few differences between it and the others sans the space it shares between me.
I may contemplate my predicament but movement is hard. The slightest stretch to brush the speck with my fingertips is straining and painful. Even it cries out in distress.
So I stand there and watch it shine, its vague warmth the only interaction between us.

I don't want to be left in the dark again.