Summer softens lines that winter cruelly shows.
The religion of the heart is as intimate as a wish breathed to the night sky.
A sensual life is a ghostly existence where you live on the surface and your soul passes through everything, touching nothing.
That icy glass reduces your beauty - dims your fire - let me be your mirror...
Ambition or contentment? This simple question led me back to a more balanced view of life and put me in touch with the Me I used to know.
Freshly cut Christmas trees smelling of stars and snow and pine resin - inhale deeply and fill your soul with wintry night.