I haven't been around, I know. But I think of you always. And I miss you endlessly.

I'm not silent. Just quiet. 
Never silent.

Don't be upset, please.

You’re frustrated because the people around you fail to see the splendor.
I’m smiling because you refuse to miss-out.

So, be glad; not drained, my pretty.

Be amused. Be inspired. Be laid back. 
And when life seems bigger than you, be the onlooker that laughs and cries and smiles at the irony of it all.

Remember your book about Paris? Did you not ( Read more... )

I haven't been this happy in a long time ( Read more... )

As if a million down pillows exploded high in the sky, the snow dances in the air and falls outside my window.

I am thinking of you.

Yes, it is cold at night: Slippery ice, and sparkling stars-all the magic of Canada’s winter.
But nothing is as beautiful as you are.

And nothing in my life will ever be as strange and wondrous as you and I.  

You came over to the apartment, full of secretive smiles.
“I have a surprise for you,” you said. And sat on my bed-cross legged, guitar in hand.
Out of your pocket, you pulled two crumpled and crowded piece of paper, and began to strum.
Your brilliant voice, though considerately slight, soared through the place:

Picture perfect
Standing
Sweet thing

Sky ( Read more... )

We never cry alike:
We are both silent; but where there is delicacy in your tears, there is passion in mine.

I realized this just before we made love tonight.

I said:
“So we’re going to stay together? And we’re going to get married? That’s it? We’ve decided we’re going to beat the odds?”

But your response came with a smile,
“Isn’t that the way it’s ( Read more... )

There was nothing left to do but sleep; and even that refused to come, so I just cried instead.
You held me close, until I ran dry… until I realized you were crying too.

Barely audible, You asked me, 
“Why were you crying, love?”
And I wanted to say,
For the same reasons you probably were...
And then I wanted to take a few hours to list them all!
But ( Read more... )

Like the shot glasses you brought home with you from the bar one late night-
“we don’t have any”, you explained; and I laughed with glee.
“You are like me!” I confessed.

We often asked one another why we get along…
Perhaps it is because we are both sinners,
and we delight in our sins.

And so, our cupboard became the envy of The Lodge:
Kitchenware and  ( Read more... )

The only apt way to protect one’s skin is to callous the softness that covers it.  

You defined love to me, not with words,
but with eyes that gazed into mine as the silver moon inched away from the long and endless night;
and with lips that kissed me everywhere.

You told me things with fingers that traced all the lines of my body-whispering into grooves, sighing over curves…
until you rested on my little toes,
which you then ( Read more... )