I could not know here from there and I did not want to. I had no choice but to proceed further, on as the light would say, on forward into the future, where cadences of conception are true and the light shines oh so brightly from the diffusing apex atop the sun. The pure light resting there like love.
With coming fortune to bespeak a brutal indifference, valued disdain plagued my heart considerably. Left aside the shelter with no storm to speak of, with no lighthouse, no shore, no rocks, no pebbles, no tide, no clouds, only the moon.
But with sincerest pity this moon shone bright. This light – this moon’s light would not forgive. This moon’s light pursued my neck until the gaslights of the boulevards became more considerate than the eyes of youth.
On, I kept saying, on.