Have I always lusted for the past? Always longed to walk down Rouen Avec une baguette in tow. Always wished my present moment Were coloured and blushed With the pigment of nostalgic memory Glossed with centuries-old ink. Do the shards of heartbreak fester like a quill Or does the spirit heal over them? Dissolving like glass into glass. Until the vase's cracks have reached perfection. Stained windows, glowing in the moonlight. A great intelligence, cursed by a speck of sadness.