As she softly recounted the tale of their speckled love, he listened like a man on vigil; the night solemnly stood still as heartaches diffused like the glow of the shaded lamp on the nightstand. As more words floated and tears flowed and dried up on crumpled napkins, he imagined hope between gaps of her gasping where truths lie like a brimful glass of red wine spilled over her chest. He imagined it like a caldera about to burst and spill more burning sulfurous words of life’s pain. As their eyes get fixed to each, sudden memories of guilt tangled; the door of silence bolted shut. Her delicate hands wrapping the white bed sheet trembled and wrinkled the linens of hope and despair. Inside that dim cramped room love lasts into eons, but still too short a bliss. Just as they caught their last words with their lips, they knew they would soon speak more of life’s stains.