Her back's curve, emanating from the darkness of her solitary room into the stairwell, cast a beautiful awe into my soul. Her slow, elderly, majestic steps made me gently bend, extending my hand as if I feared it might break. Then, spontaneously, I gently patted the arch of her forward-leaning back. When she lifted her face to mine, she
(1)
You're the rose in the heart of a summery winter,
All the roses of the world have died... except you.
How can I resist the shimmering magic of the waves in your petals?
A wave.. or a tree.. creeping towards me??
The night is dense by the sea,
And I plunge into the darkness of this moon,
Specters are dancing over
Your ability to withhold your worries inside you is not all of your honorable work, what you will truly be remembered for is your ability to deal patiently with all your dilemmas. Your real honor lies in remaining a human amidst all of the aforementioned.
It's a relief to remain this bearable person who endures in silence, to appear
I learned that the rivers of love are not always safe. That the boats of relationships sailing on them increase their chances of sinking and collapsing the sweeter they become.
Whoever told you that love alone is sufficient, has deceived you. It might be the spark of the beginning, the start of the journey, but it can never stand alone
The solitude I have long felt, the perpetual companionship for me, and the primary refuge for my sometimes disturbed thoughts. Often, I saw crowded places as empty despite the hustle and bustle and appointments. Despite numerous encounters, I never truly met anyone. Between me and everyone else there's a massive barrier, as huge as a
