It is raining, and the city is gray and cold. I struggle to feel warm on the inside, with my coffee black, taken with a hint of milk and a trio of spice: nutmeg, cinnamon and chocolate. The flavors roll across my tongue and I mindlessly try to savor them, ignoring the straying thoughts battling…
“When I saw my wife again standing by the tracks as the train came in by the piled logs at the station, I wished I had died before I ever loved anyone but her.” “There is never any ending to Paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that…
Haunting and gorgeous.
This song feels like sunlight trickling through the trees, warm & worn dirt paths, and light dancing off of the water.
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