Photography is all about secrets... The secrets we all have and will never tell.

...and the distance between them, millimeters only, the space of a breath, opened up and deepened, became a cavern at whose edge he stood.

His love for her was so deeply woven with resentment that he could not untangle the two.

The place was a familiar as breath but as far from his life now as the moon.

Each letter has a shape, she told them, one shape in the world and no other, and it is your responsibility to make it perfect.

She didn't love him and he didn't love her; she was like an addiction, and what they were doing had a darkness to it, a weight.

He had never even glimpsed her.