What Mends
Your pretty smile is a hush beneath thunder, a gentle harbor in the stresses of man’s days. The world shouts, breaks, and tumbles – but you, you are the smile that mends it.
The collection
2025
-
-
Second Wind
Another sunrise. Another chance to get it right. And I will. Because the fire’s back – quiet, controlled, mine.
-
Valentine’s Day
I choose the memory of your hands cupping my face like a prayer. I choose the stories you told, woven into the quiet spaces of my heart. I choose the castles, the palaces, the old stone bridges you never saw, but would have loved.
-
Love
In your name, I have traveled the deserts of longing, the mountains of joy, and the valleys of despair. And yet, I would walk them all again just to feel the brush of your hand in mine.
-
Esh Winning
And your name – you call it funny, but to me, it rings like poetry, the kind that arrives unannounced, stays in your chest for days, and reminds you of soft dawns, of spring mornings too perfect to repeat.
-
Sparks
Moving on is not forgetting – it’s letting the ashes settle, letting the wind carry what remains, while we walk forward, hands empty, but hearts open for the fires yet to come.
-
Silence
It is not emptiness I feel, but fullness – a space within me that dreams, that stretches its hands toward something unseen, something yet to arrive, something more beautiful.