On an anniversary day she suspects may have been forgotten, hope still exists that she may meet him rising up as she is spiralling down and, that, once eyes lock and arms embrace, the first kiss might alight on her jugal area before proceeding to the lips for passion’s pressure. Alas, as her timepiece indicates a rendezvous will occur at nevermas, tears wash away the lingering stardust in her heart. Now, spiralling up, towards the roof, for a breath of fresh air, she breathes in peace from the night sky, realizing she has the power to lift up, Mutatis mutandis, her spirits both literally and figuratively. ; )