love archival 📜

I don't know how love works but I remember the day my grandma died. We talked on the phone. I don't remember what you said or whether it helped. I...

When I slip beneath the quilt and fold into your warmth, I think we are like the pages of a love letter written thirty years ago that some aging god...

The moon did not become the sun.It just fell on the desertin great sheets, reamsof silver handmade by you.The night is your cottage industry now,the day is your brisk emporium.The...

When life seems grayAnd short of fizzIt seems that wayBecause it is. — Margaret Fishback

When the time comesto love yourself wellit may take you a goodsolid year to stop cryingabout all you have to let go. — Andrea Gibson