My friend and I took some (flash) photos a long time ago. I hated them at the time, but I am going to post them as looks now, I think.
Time for a poem that is just as old.
I can hear the silvery sorrow we share; the sublime misery in the heart of every poet
That reaches quiet ecstasy in the loneliness of the night
When all the ruthless pleasures of secret inspiration
Overtake us in expression, and leave only the peace we call