
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.
The collection

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.