The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit.
One great part of every human existence is passed in a state which cannot be rendered sensible by the use of wideawake language, cutanddry grammar and goahead plot.
You can still die when the sun is shining.
The light music of whiskey falling into glasses made an agreeable interlude.
As I am. As I am. All or not at all.
Your battles inspired me - not the obvious material battles but those that were fought and won behind your forehead.