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There, dawn breaks the stars to bits and she lifts up into the glimmer in rose tinted mist that wisps all around her, within a Pepto-Bismol colored Caddillac. I remember that candle flickering across her face, beguiling flash, too old for my youth and her confused discovery of the moment. She floats precariously upon spikes alien to these maple lined sensible flats. She has returned to ravage the village and the old women boil and bubble their cauldrons and jabber hex's to sacrifice me....to save their sons..but we still remember each other in a dream.