I listen to Yiruma to mute the screaming of these rails. It is October, amore, your favorite season. Yes, the once green…
There’s a damp green mossAt the bottom of our gardenAmongst the rusting…
With closed eyes, my true desire evades meAll efforts to will my slumber are in vainThe seconds of…
Crocuses, snowdrops push up their merry headsThe cairn on the woodland path marks the unburied…
I caress youand I feel with my fingertipsyour awakened desireI hug youand I…