Each shrine of my art is dedicated to the muse which is you. And each rung of my dreams spools and hinges on your existence. I only started to breathe real air when you stood still to breathe next to me-- perhaps the first to just stand there doing nothing, saying nothing, but just there … Continue reading My Love
Tag: true love
Sitting Naked
Sitting naked at my computer, thinking about you. How strange that so many fear what we have. They call it prison what has freed me more than childhood. A killer of love they call this, which makes me think of you as I sit here naked in front of the screen. Each inch of my … Continue reading Sitting Naked