I can’t remember if there were stars, or if moonlight fell softly upon the leaves. I was…blind to the spectacle but not the spectre of a loveless night. I wanted again those guarantees that once lived in my heart. But the night exudes ill its breath and returned to me an ocean of scents: the flowers and trees. I awake expectant from this dark tomb of the sky, for pain and joy are but flips of the same coin.