To AH (draft)
To AH (draft)
I apologize if these words offend - I was not born with honeyed words on my breath nor silver inlaid on my tongue. These are simply the lines I have crafted: rough and humble to remain true. The moment your eye catches mine is both tempest and harbor. For in those icy waters I am drawn to passionate gales which sing with the storm of life, wishing to alight on every shore - to bend every tree, to live world forever having shaken the world. Yet in that eye is such kindness, compassion, and joy that no heart should dare to contain your wild and free spirit. I have said your voice is as the evening sun - warm, filled with scents of mystery and adventure. While true, I feel that it was too succinct. When you speak the world quiets, as every syllable is precious as dew upon the morning flower. What bliss it is to hear you happy, the glint of mistral on your eye, the curve of pleasure on your lips. What agony it is to hear you sing sorrow, that if I were more myth than real I would divert those rivers of heartbreak to wash out your troubles. When you laugh, it is as regarding the stars anew - the wonder of their form, from smallest sparkle to largest explosion. The inspiration those beauteous miracles create both move the human heart and inspire happiness to echo in every beat. As I look to the heavenly bodies, I can not help but be reminded of your mind - your wit casting after-images as they race across the sky; your musings, majestic and humbling as they stretch galaxy-like; the harmony of orbits reflecting the virtue of seeing everything without judgement and gathering the whole picture for a decision.
All these observations took time and patience. More on your part than on mine, I will admit. Witnessing your resiliency, your drive, your bravery, your courage, the small things: the crinkle in your brow when you dance, the flutter of your eyelids when recounting a history, the subtle pink of your cheeks when you sport a true smile - I fell in love.
I love you, with all my heart.
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The Ukrainian Wreath
I’ll get right to it.
The last few weeks have been heartbreaking, and there are no words to fully describe the devastation the Ukrainian people have suffered.
While living so far away can create a feeling of helplessness I wanted to try and do something to help. That is why I’ll be selling this print on my Etsy shop with all profits going towards the Hospitallers.
A group of volunteer paramedics working in Ukraine to help those inflicted.
Stand with Ukraine. 🇺🇦 Stop The War.
Wishing you all a safe, and love filled week. ❤️
https://www.etsy.com/listing/1182646662/fine-art-print-the-ukrainian-wreath
true love is the one that brings you happiness and, to me, what we had was true.
It was my purpose, my drive, and most certainly it was my will to live.
It was to me, surreal. a dream I got to be in everyday, an honor that filled my breast with pride and kept me brave.
love is above all, made of trust. the foundation determining how many cracks appear when the world shakes. I failed you - I swore to keep you safe, to strengthen our love everyday, to be together in all things.
I betrayed you with inaction: letting that anchor of a disease drag me away from you, leaving you alone - Atlas to hold the world at bay, while Epimetheus acted without thought. and so my days begin and end with a question, "if I lived to harbor this drop of Prometheus' flame, a being who inspired endless creativity, love, awe; why do I still draw breath when I was the one who called the earthquakes?"
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Amelia from the year 1991 (33). A person working to find their self love again.
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