Detail, "Storm Clouds," Stephen Procko
    she looked up at him with some sense of love
    the impression mingling in the breezy darkness with the scent of magnolias
    and it was such a love that the world itself seemed to seize
    and the moon was incandescant
    he imagined he could resolve her eyes
    there was mortality in the gentle sustenance of that gaze
    and he knew then why all men had to die

the beginning is the end is the beginning 10 of 10012 of 100