Love letter # 468 The beauty of autumn is the sweetness of memory. Especially in the gloaming. Where you reside, nigh divine and untouchable. In the waft of woodsmoke I dream of a hearth with you.  

Love letter # 458 In the sweet light I sensed you. Your colour and scent, the movement of your breath. And something nearing taste. I was in the cloud of your presence. God, how I wanted you.