At the pace of every falling star. Mirror of the night, across dark lake. The destiny of moments, as much as dust, as much as the distance of those pale flickers. Ever still, forevermore now. Then kiss, what then? A beauty that makes all other things seem ill. Onyx treasure, in every glance she gives. That there is warmth in the chill of every breeze. That the dawn would rise and bloom as roses do, as she would waken. One day, all moments such as these. With her, only her, always her.

– Mitsuo Tanaka


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