Lost in thoughts, recounting memories, hearing words again that were never spoken, truths underlying the incandescent glow. I swear by the blood below my feet what promises were made were rarely kept wandering along the last lost byways. You know we’ve got to find a way. A kitten’s greatest skill is being cute but now I’m only falling apart. She walked up to me and she asked me to dance.
Lord Malinov, Song of Songs