From your Valentine...

For this was on seynt Volantynys day
Whan euery bryd comyth there to chese his make.
- Geoffrey Chaucer, Parlement of Foules.


Love letters and roses. Bright blue sky. A fresh whiff of spring and red hearts. Glitter paper and chocolates. Warmth and balloons. The color red. Music and lyrics. Coffee dates and chocolate latte. Romantic evenings and sunsets at the beach. Holding hands. Lovestamps and violet ink. Winged Cupid and winks. Verses and heartfelt words. Candle lights and crescent moon. Stars, bright stars. Promises.

And much more.
All that reminds me of you.
sixteen candles, stacked letters and cards.


From your Valentine.

Stone grey...

I perceive colours...
Everywhere and in every space.

I once believed it took an eternity for things to journey from the heart to the mind. A single word births a myriad of thoughts – counted or not. You, like a radiant river, once blinded my sight; now, clarity reigns.
I see hues in your words, tinted with hope and devoid of regret. You advocate "Never Regret," imparting lessons you deem I should grasp.


You sketch a bird, urging its release!
You declare it's you.


I remain there, anticipating the bird's return, as I watch the sky change its colour. Stone grey, greyer than rain – conflict and chaos, for I am colourless. And it traversed much faster.