I liked those breezy summer nights with the sounds of sirens and fast cars, crickets chirping, and leaves moving, I liked becoming one with the wind, I am the wind, these nights took me back to the nights when the mind could GRASP those sounds because the soul wasn't found, it wasn't claimed, it wasn't known or recognized, it wasn't felt, all she wanted to do was think because he wasn’t there and he wasn’t there, what was she to feel? And if only he knew who I was, what I was, I liked those streets, I liked that tree, that house seen from the window, and something even in the walls of that house, those wooden walls, those prayers over water, that painting a flower, those long night rides, and that passing a bridge, those nights when sleep was there, and the mind was safer, the heart was innocent, and the eyes saw clearer, the stars were seen but not needed, and limits were never exceeded, when you didn’t have to be alone, and when hope was greeted, nothing was to be deleted, when the nights seemed short, and dreams were just dreams, when nightmares were strangers, when nothing kept you up and nothing kept you sleeping, I loved the fan cooling dinner, and it blowing someone’s hair,