When Wise, witty and wasted met Wonderfully, wantonly warm, not the last god of alliteration could damp down the sparks that flew behind and between their eyes. Thoughts of shared single spoons, flames that lapped but did not scorch, words that glittered in the air and landed soft on skin, clever in the physical and strong in spirit. The mysterious was new and the old was a reclaimed once-forgotten memory. Time will need to pass, as time needs to. May it always last.