"I think of you and me as the doomed lovers we never were. We walk in some autumn's continual rain in my dream, and grasp at one another, as though each moment was the moment of parting ... Each thing then becomes the last, and we wander down deserted streets, without touching, and are aliens wherever we go ... We come together rarely and then like two infected lovers in some contagious ruin, we lie down together only so that we might die warm."