Don’t you know there’s a fire blazing behind those controlled features? Desire hides behind a veil of detachment. “You seek to touch my skin” she said. “I’d let you hold my soul, but could you bear its heat? It might scald your hands, not with its unparalleled magnificence- no claim to brilliance or singularity- but because it strives to devour itself and everything surrounding it.”

A soul? Didn’t I sell mine long ago, to a band of tired nomads? They only gave me a dream in exchange; they said it was magical. I stood and watched it shine brighter than the stars; I dared hope it would provide my body with the sparkle it needed.

In the morning, they were gone, taking the moon with them, and all I had left was a dim piece of glass. So I still sit alone in the darkness, sometimes, wondering if they deceived me, or if my innate urge to doubt all that is warm and comforting casts a shadow on even the most radiant of lights life has gifted me with.