Every waking instance fed his thoughts, searching for higher ground he lay hold of every smile, every glance, and every word. He slowly probed twisted memories and ancient echoes to reconcile a genuine love scarcely enjoined.

But in her presence, those thoughts were made manifest in accordance with a beatific vision. He took himself as a dweller in sanctified grounds, counted himself amongst the most blessed, and foresaw Love herself.

He had loved her for a year; he knew from the first meeting of her zest for life; shortly after he discovered her lust for love; he recently experienced her enormous capacity for love; at this moment, his love was most genuine. But in truth, he stood as a lonesome sojourner meandering within a translucent reality of the unforgiven and unforgotten.

"Oh, how her presence feed my thoughts," he said, "as if through every smile, every glance, and every word I find nourishment for the last surviving sense of the spirit."

Oh, and how greatly and fully did he feed. He recounted each moment as vital nourishment until new sustenance arrived. Had there been any reality beyond his damned journey, with her, he found a glimpse. "Be there anything spiritual," he said, "my only ability to grasp it lies in such a glimpse."

He waited patiently.

Yet, de facto, he could not rest content knowing patience as his sole resource for requited love. Yearning for higher ground he asked, "Of what use is it to remain the beholder of a solitary glimpse?" “Indeed, it is in this glimpse that patience finds its principle, even its continuance” he reasoned, “but if it all be in vain, imagined, unrequited; then patience betrays me.”

He had found solace in patience, that virtue was a genuine man's hearth and home, yet his doubts persisted, “If I lay dreaming, and my glimpse be but a simple twitch of the sleeper's eye, then would patience be of any value? If this be the case, I might preserve this love, absorb every moment, dissect every memory, and unify the moment by composing elegiacs in her honor.”

Yet lust, in the very least, a sensual glimpse, betrayed patience for action. Her lascivious lips, imperceptible eyes, and immaculate voice slithered through his memories.