Except for this moment, for this girl, who caught herself in my gaze, fragile. I saw something inside her quake a little. Whatever it was, a seismic turn, she saw I saw it too. And still she played her electric violin for all the world to hear.
I have made a wish. I have written it in red ink. I will take it tomorrow on the full moon when the granting is strongest and place it in the old rocks who have borne my body across theirs more than once.
Out of old pain, dreams of new beauty grow.