Gulls fly overhead, chirps that sing over Victorian rooftops and ride the wind to seaside docks. High tide waves and turtle migrations. Empty shells and eternal sands. How passionate they are, to make love to to the rocks and foam and fog. Creation in the name of God. I roam past the daffodils and the cooing fountains. Narcissus’ flowers. Narcissus’ reflection. Nostalgic and timeless, like bottle rockets and paper airplanes nesting on power lines.

Three Years

Three Years

The sun was shining bright beams this morning. Carried in the hands of a cobalt sky. Apollonian lanterns giving way to the death of night. I stepped into the shower and let the warmth envelop me. Under turquoise tiles, my toes crinkled and I felt my eyes close. And then it was happening all over again. The remembering.



It’s hard pressed to find these days, but it’s still necessary. Graffiti art and passionate sex. Random musings and understanding what makes another tick. Finger paint and finger foods. He doesn’t know it, but I am craving romance.

Sour Patch Smiles


We waltz into the late afternoon, feet up on teal chairs and eyes under chandeliers of fans. Linen tablecloths, linen napkins, out in the terrace room. Two of a kind, the perfect team. We are a Monday kind of King and Queen.



There are not many people that we come across that we have an instant connection with. But once in the bluest of moons, it happens. It’s not a movie cliche, it’s not cheesy, it’s not even romantic – it is pure magic. I believe in angels and miracles, and they are both typically found in the eyes of another. So when you meet that person that just does it for you – that someone that knots your stomach and flushes your cheeks, and that feeling never goes away, it’s not happenstance. There is a reason behind everything. Trust in the universe.


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