The moon weeps cream in crescent rivulets which descend down upon the mountains to wrap them in a papyrus luminescence. A porcelain dream forged at the heart of the obsidian valley, too delicate for the penetrating peaks of the granite mountainsides. An elegant visage of nature modelled to shield the moonlit lovers’ fantasies, and which lives under the constant threat of the delinquent wind. The veiled secrecy of these moonbeam pasture lands, always compromised. Yet, the lovers march ahead in the moonlight, donning their watery cloak of bubble head dreams, amidst their crumbling stars which fall like fireworks into the shadowy depths of their lovelorn sea.