The Poet

He made me return to writing poetry. When we talked, it wasn’t violins that played, but sonnets that whispered on his lips. I could feel the letters moving in my heart, not yet taking shape but there, waiting to be released. He had been everything I asked for. And yet… We were here. Letters, locked. … More The Poet

The Mistake

I missed him.  It was my fault that I would never see him again.  Never hear from him again.  One of the things I was attracted to was his ability to take charge and make a decision.  His ability that once he had decided something he didn’t waffle.  I knew once he said that I … More The Mistake