Little lines from our hearts light up the midnight roads. I can hear the call of spotted owls and sleepy toads. As the sounds of the festival dull to a hum, and the smells of the day boil down to sugar and rum, I reminisce on the past, these memories made of glass, that cut me so sweetly, devour me so deeply. As we all stand along these midnight roads, amongst the owls and toads, the lines from our hearts glowing through the dark, my heart cannot help but to yearn. 

Though lessons in longing are the hardest to learn. 

~Sammicakes