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,@.,&¨&.#. Only At Night. Long Ago, Someone Here ¨£#.#¨#.¤,
£&,§&,£,@. Must'Ve Angered The Sun, And Today It ,¨§.@,§.§,
¨&,¨£.@,£, Still Burns Us Strangely. But With The ¨#§.¤,&¨@¨
@&,#£,¤¨&, Sunset The Air Comes Raining Back Down ¨.@.§.§¨£.
.@¨¨@,¤.¤, And Gets Thick Enough To Breathe. It ¨@@.¤,@¨#,
#§.££¨&.£. Carries With It Smells From Far Away, ..#.&.§¨§,
,@..@.£¨@, Colourful Sparks For The Imagination, A ¨@&.#.@,#.
&£¨#&.§.@, Sharp Contrast For The Stale Black Of ¨¨&¨¤.¤.§.
,¤..§,¤.¤, The Night. .§@¨#¨§,£,
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@§.@@¨§¨¤. Take Me Seriously And I Fear They ..@,¤¨&,@,
.&,¨¤¨@¨£¨ Snicker A Bit. You Usually Get Old .&§¨@,#,£,
&£,#£.£.¤. Before You Learn The Trade Enough To ,,¤¨#.§¨¤¨
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¤#¨¤#,£¨&, Safely Forward, Every Night. ¨.¤.§.#.#.
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£#.¤&,§,&. However, Currently There Seems To Be .¨¤.¤.#.¤.
¨£,¨#,£,#¨ Something Going On Ahead. Those Around ,£#.#,§.¤,
&£¨§£,¤¨@, The Corner Have Stopped, Shouting, ..¤.#,¤,&¨
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.&¨¨¤,#.@. Book of stars, Is A Combined Map, .£&¨£.&¨&.
#¤¨&§.§.&. Calendar And Timepiece As Long As You ¨.§,@.#¨&.
¨#¨,¤¨¤¨§. Know What Year It Is. Every Page Is A .§¤.§,¤¨£,
¤§¨&¤,@¨§. Grid Of Nine Starfields, Hand Drawn, ,¨¤¨£,@¨¤¨
.#¨¨&¨&¨§¨ Below Which Are Written Coordinates In ,§¤,@¨£.&¨
&@¨@@,§,§. Both Space And Time. A Lot Of It Is ¨.¤,@.§,@.
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#§¨@#¨£.¤¨ Hints Of Other Places - Some Stars ..@,#,#.§.
,&.¨#,¤¨@¨ Reordered, Some Names I Have Never ,##,¤¨¤.#,
¤§,#¤,&¨¤, Heard. Sometimes The Dates Are ..&,§.#.#¨
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.§.¨£.&.¤. Those Pages Are Exactly What I Scramble .§£,&.£,£.
&&¨@@.§,&¨ For Right Now. I'Ve Stopped Breathing. ,,@.#¨¤,£¨
.@¨¨£,¤¨@. I Sling Open The Book Of Stars A Bit ,§¤.&¨#,¤¨
§§,£&,§¨&¨ Too Quick, Spilling All My Notes On The ¨,¤,&¨¤¨£¨
.&¨,#,£¨¤. Ground. One Lands On My Foot, It Is A .§#.@.&.@.
#£,£@.§,£¨ Drawing Of A Muscle cow, But I Could ¨,§¨&,#,@.
,@¨¨§,§¨¤. Care Less Right Now. .§@,&¨@,&.
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