Leandro (Prose; Part V)

From then on, upon the hours of each dark and lonely night, I saw the figure of Leandro in the company of my trancelike, opium-dreams. I awoke to glimpse his beaming radiance, gleaming into view above the murky shadows. Terribly eager to hold him close, I made a dash towards him and bellowed, "Oh, Leandro!-Leandro!-How I missed you so badly!" I thought I saw him turn toward me with dark and empty eyes. Just then, I realized, for no bare reason, I was holding zilch in my arms. His vague apparition had vanished already; and I wept bitter tears. A gale of wind brushed by my face as if to wipe all the tears away, and, lulling me back to sleep, whispered lullabies in my ear. There were moments in my opium-induced visions, when a sudden sparkle of green light projects itself before my very eyes, when the silent teachings of him who had fled embossed themselves into the manger of my ruined heart--that I felt the gentle texture, and even the familiar taste, of Leandro's lips pressed on mine. By then, when I stirred up in bed, he would be gone in sight; and I would have shed tears once more...