But now in September the winds have changed, and with them my quintessence

Nasturtiums in a jar, the petals in the water sit almost perfectly still, when with faded dreams you came to me and I whisper to you as one driven by thought of nature's implicit language I want to fill the empty parts with comfort, stretch towards you with my soul singing as ache, a never-ending … Continue reading But now in September the winds have changed, and with them my quintessence