Something like a sense of detachment.

At the bottom of a well, the darkness is almost total, an absolute half moon allows a little light to grace my perspective. If I were lost somewhere between deep thought and a deep sleep then I found myself staring at the mid morning stars that stubbornly refused to be refuted, I draw a comparison to vivid memories concerning beautiful women that I have touched, these refuse to fade away also. These stars, alike my thoughts were mine and mine alone to hold but soon I would share them with the world. I tried to take comfort in the fact that no one else could see them, I held them in my arms and bathed them with kindness, beauty and truth..however fleeting this comfort may have been it existed all the same and provided an amount of solace to the otherwise vague and blameless calender months. It is almost as if the sun illuminates them, a logical conclusion, the sun illuminates all that the eye can see, everything around me and yet the sun has seemingly not illuminated you in weeks. Perhaps in another place. Another man's arms. Another man's kindness. Another man's beauty. Another man's truth. I will find you illuminated.