The road was long and difficult, but I am glad to be here.
scarves and coffee dates are my style.
love has never been romance to me.
This is love – quiet and serene.
miracles, I believe, do exist.
I gave you my body to paint. you left my portrait in the cold.
December – once a month of snow and happiness, now a month of silence and nothingness.
and, in the face of blind love, everything is forgotten.
when my throat closes up, you remind me how to speak.
in these pages you left behind, your lyrics left unfinished, i will write the rest of your song.