i've said it before, but i'll say it again.
pure, undistilled moonlight. like bathing in a halo of ice. how wonderful is it that there can be shadows at night, drawn by that second-hand, but not at all inferior sunlight meekly thrown upon us by our closest neighbor? and why does the moon always seem to be weeping, even when she is so beautiful? so many questions. please leave them unanswered.