Were you there, Lord, when Anton and I were making love? When we traveled around the Crimea without money, but full of love and thirst? Did you watch us burn a fire in the Mangup cave? Did you watch as we picked grapes from the ground, washed them in a stream, and ate them in Bakhchisarai? Were you there when Anton went to kill the enemy and did not return? Did you hold his hand when Anton died? Did you show him the memories of how we traveled around Crimea? Where did you send him after his death and why do I dream about him so often and so sadly?