The incandescent fragrance of lilacs hangs in the breeze, enhancing silence, accentuating the freedom of the sleeping city at 3 a.m.
A certain stillness, cars rest in suburban driveways; toxic fumes dampened, leaving little to blatantly disrupt the balance of a slightly-starry night.
Restless romantics lay half-awake, alive and questioning all likely answers slipping through the window. For just a while we breathe and sleep.
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