cf. video by Yaroslav Shuraev via Pexels
Did you think of me last night?
[Comes nearer.] I think of you always—as something beautiful and distant— the moon or some deep music.
[Smiling.] And last night which was I?
I was awake half the night. I could hear your voice. I could see your face in the dark. Your eyes… I want to speak to you. Will you listen to me? May I speak?
— Joyce, Exiles