“Sarah always did have good taste.”
“Yep. You could even say she ‘walked in beauty, like the night.’”
This is the way Chuck and I would muse about Sarah.
It was never clear if our observations of Sarah were accurate or germaine. Thus we were damned, for we were only observers. We only observed– and mused. We observed her as amateur astronomers, using telescopes available to the public, at LA’s Griffith Park Observatory.
We were studious observers of Sarah in the bright California sunshine, but when we mused, it was in terms of the night, and the night sky.
Sarah had good taste as she licked us, as a nocturnal panther licks cave-clustered cubs. As the roaring Pacific clicks in, waves flashing crashing stars, me and Chuck anhedonic, under the roughness of Sarah’s lashing tongue,
And thus in life, belong.
To observe.
Spam of Human Affection 
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