Star shine

We are the stuff
of stars and dreams.
But dreams end with morning
and our stars died aeons ago,
before this world was formed.

Occasionally in another's eyes
we catch a glint
the memory of star shine,
before the dream turns to ash
burnt by cold desire.

Rudely awoken
we cling to broken dreams,
hold each other to second best.
For fear of being alone,
for fear we may not shine.