I basked in you; I loved you, helplessly, with a boundless tongue-tied love. And death doesn't prevent me from loving you. Besides, in my opinion you aren't dead. (I know dead people, and you are not dead.)

I basked in you; I loved you, helplessly, with a boundless tongue-tied love. And death doesn't prevent me from loving you. Besides, in my opinion you aren't dead. (I know dead people, and you are not dead.)

The long silences need to be loved, perhaps more than the words which arrive to describe them in time.

The humiliation I go through/when I think of my past/can only be described as grace./We are created by being destroyed.

We are created by being destroyed.

Should each individual snowflake be held accountable for the avalanche?

I wish my father could be around.