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Love letter # 641
Melancholy season. The blooms, the blue noon, the stretch of evening. Windows open, allowing soft air, which carries the fragments…
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Love letter # 153
Have we come this far, torn so much to pieces, questioned every motive, only to discover it doesn’t even matter?…
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Love letter # 949
Forty years tonight. Since our eyes met. Another world. Before marriage, mortgage, kids, divorce. Before distance. Before I knew who…
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Love letter # 788
We are not required to make plans, swear oaths, nor pledge the everlasting. There is nothing for us to uphold,…
