The night sky, lit up by thousands of little sparks.
Some brighter, others dimmer, all coming together in an ensemble worthy of the most famous art galleries.
Just staring at it for hours on end was enough to make me feel whole. Each twist of my neck modified the wondrous view, transforming it to something different from before.
There was no common point between the constantly morphing sight.
And there will never be any, nor do I wish there was.
Nothing needs to be tied down by something common, diversity is the spice of beauty, and I like my beauty extra spicy.