Gently – was it experimentally? – He pressed her hand at parting; but his own felt undisturbed and emotionless. Did she still care? The answer to the question hardly interested him.

The young moon had set, and from the uninviting cot he could see one half of a star-studded sky.

So that was all over.

Why had he obstinately clung to that dream?

So all these years – Since when? – He had been seeing the light of dead stars, long extinguished, yet seemingly still in their appointed places in the heavens.

An immense sadness as of loss invaded his spirit, a vast homesickness for some immutable refuge of the heart far away where faded gardens bloom again, and where live on in unchanging freshness, the dear, dead loves of vanished youth.

Dead Stars by Paz Marquez Benitez.

With eyes of a watchman
With ears of a superhero
With nose of a canine dog
With mouth like an armalite
With hair like the weather
With smile like a beautiful morning

With a singing voice like a broken jukebox
With dancing moves like a bunot on a floorwaxed floor

With patience of an elevator operator
With determination of a snail
With courage of a lion and tiger combined

With mind of her own
With heart of her own

February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008

.fourth!Romance is the designer.
Inspiration from Exuvalia.