Circassian beans once thrived in the southern regions of a distant land, It is a story from long ago. the longing between lovers is but a fleeting shadow, ephemeral and insubstantial, It has long faded into the void, forgotten by all who once knew it. I drowned in drink and found myself slumber in a city that never sleep, its neon lights burning with hollow promise. the glass before me holds a world of blue, a vast expanse of longing and love that stretches beyond reach. I should have never turned the pages of those ancient love poems, How foolish I was to heed their tales of longing and desire, those wistful musings of the world's unspoken affections. If I continue to hold on to this so-called love, surely I will be mocked for it, even more I fear the moment when the other person realizes. Spring has come and the Circassian bean is blooming, but no lovers come to gether them anymore. The fireworks at the wedding were breathtaking, but deep down, I knew that true love had already slipped away.