“I love you as I love the night's high vault O silent one, o sorrow's lachrymal, And love you more because you flee from me, And temptress of my nights, ironically You seem to hoard the space, to take to you What separates my arms from heaven's blue. I climb to the assault, attack the source, A choir of wormlets pressing towards a corpse, And cherish your unbending cruelty, This iciness so beautiful to me.”