December's wintery breath is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring summer's memory...
...I remember the oily smoke of a cigarette suspended in a shaft of sunlight - with you, everything was beautiful...
...Tolstoy said, happiness is an allegory, unhappiness a story - then what does that make us?...
the struggle is not with others, but within us, to do what we are called to do
...You won't age? I promise you this - your hands will go shiny and transparent and at the slightest bruise they'll bleed...
Paint in blue and black...sometimes gray - the colors of night - occasionally I surprise you with a mustard yellow, but then, I am a poet ...
...did you know that in your eyes there are bright flecks of green and orange - and that they are lovely?...
...I pray this winter be gentle and kind - a season of rest from the wheel of the mind...
...everyone wants to be excited by something magical and wondrous - to be reminded of how they once saw the world ...
...summer softens lines that winter cruelly shows...
This will be a winter so desolate, only memory can fill the emptiness
...you mean you don't fit characters into a plot? excatly...
Your steady rain of words soaked me to the skin
...God sometimes sends flowers -but I like it best when he darkens the sky and lights up an infinitude of worlds...
you are the mysterious fire at my finger tips
...when you're broken, everything gets a little honester - you make mistakes and don't give a damn - you give up on perfection, but get real...
... here's what I believe - sometimes God has a Plan B...
From the moment I saw you, I wanted you in my dreams
your moods and colors are my climate, not the changing face of the sky
A heart never breaks in the same pattern of pieces
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