“ And one by one, the nights between our separated cities are joined to the night that unites us. ”
Categories: Poetry
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Poetry is the shadow cast by our streetlight imaginations. 
I love the silent hour of night, For blissful dreams may then arise, Revealing to my charmed sight What may not bless my waking eyes. 
And now we welcome the new year, full of things that have never been 
Poetry, she thought, wasn't written to be analyzed; it was meant to inspire without reason, to touch without understanding. 
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. 