The stars shine through my rain-streaked window as loney hearts dream of smiles. They shout to me with the silence of crimped love-letters: I am one of them, calling back through rain upon my face, hope at seventy beats per minute. But hope dissolves when bathed in acid from the clouds, which make happy shapes to mock me. I flatline at midnight. Applause builds to match my new pulse, for I have joined the others-- the lonely hearts.