I am standing on a long, black stage, with a circle of light on me, which is my love for you, enduring. I have escaped— or been expelled— from eternity and am back in time. But I step out once more to sing this aria, this confession, this testament without end. My arms open wide, not to embrace you but to embrace the world, the mystery we are caught in. There is no orchestra, no audience; it is an empty theater in the middle of the night and all the clocks in the world are ticking. And now for this last time, I don’t mind, or even ask if it is madness: I see your face, I see you, you; I see you in every seat.
—Scott Spencer, “Endless Love” (last paragraph)