Next Year … Some Year (this year)

Millay was right when she said they all have lied. There hasn’t been any day, in any week, in any month – not a single day since then. I would take just one – a series of 24 successive hours where you don’t invade my heart thoughts. A solid sleep, a quiet morning, an inconsequential afternoon. AnContinue reading “Next Year … Some Year (this year)”