Shadows are the unambiguous messengers of time.
And light is always late for the next event.
They–both–won’t ever cease to be familiar.
Now I know why first love fascinates us so:
the illumination of every other affection
comes cascading over the same horizon.
And if night makes us forget ourselves,
sever the ends of the very world;
your map will spread full before you again.
Michael S Marsters 