Make me an offer: your head or your heart. I’ll take either one,  I’m in a bit of a bind right now, and

Do you know where you are, sweetheart? Do you know where you are when your tears wash your face like shimmery pearls unraveling from a

I don’t want your kindness. I don’t need your patience. I’m not looking for a role model. Don’t give me a speech.

I’m standing in the middle of my garden,  small and special, like an ancient idol, hidden for centuries  by the luxuriant vegetation  which grew

I could have died a thousand ways or not have lived at all. I could have sold my happiness for envy, rage, and gall. I could have drowned in grief and tears, and given up my soul. I could have followed on my fears to falter, fail and fall.