we were older then. you with your horn-rimmed glasses sleek as Hermes, resting on your button nose; dazzling. your eyes were smoldering echoes, far off on a quest for visions. mine were nowhere to be seen. we poured over volumes of antiquity, blazoned with rich art. Faustian marvels, leather bound and noble. we traipsed the gallows of Dry Humors, lording it over the gremlins of our isolation. we had not been formally introduced and everything was formal. we haunted the halls; our school of fish eyes sparkling; weaving like serpents in the heather on ether. we roamed the hallowed ground on secret missions without Love.