And then there are moments which so greatly remind me of Musette’s beauty and worth. Usually I find them in songs, motifs, a reverberation in my chest, and I want to be the romantic husband she cries out for in our mutual sleep, to hold her in her dreaming hours, and smile through the pains of our walks, carrying her onwards and homewards to the warmth of light I aspire to be in the life of everyone, but why especially not for her.

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