The stars rained down and flooded the streets. The gutters were overflowing, spewing forth bright light. People had retired into their abodes, seated before a fireplace, in each other’s arms. Children

The page bears proof To the turmoil of my being, I crumple the page and throw it away Yet I feel the same. The pen transforms My woes into words, I break the nib of the pen Yet I feel the same. Writing