Cuneiform: for RobIn the ruins of unrecovered cities, the regular paths of shadow measure the days since the last trace of footsteps was obliterated by no more than time. The wind slithers through the dustless streets like a deathrattle through broken windpipes. The merchants have been melted down for sacred ornaments: the priests have been cast in bronze and taken away. Only my eyes still watch for you. Remember that I watched for you, and, with the shadows, you came to me.