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This is a story where the great ones meet, and the mad ones prove their genius. Because who else would have thought to paint the autumn leaves red and the summer sky in sun? When the sleep-deprived dream novels of bridges and romantics dream of candlelight dinners and kisses, are these but beautiful lies? No. There are no lies, only truthes hidden beneath the sandman’s cape, and they must escape sometime and become cobweb realities.

Oh, the pain of wishing on a star. The stars must be plucked like ripe plums from an orchard of dragon’s bones. Plucked and claimed so the wishes can’t escape. Held in a jar like fireflies, and kept on the nightstand for the wishers to dream. Have you ever heard a star song? Breathless like the moon, but delicate like the antennae of a moth. Green like trees in an after-rain sunset, and sharp as ocean’s brine.

Good night. May you dream of pearls and cat’s eye marbles and seduction’s ruby lips. May you cherish the nightmares like a treasured doll, and never let the good dreams go to waste.

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