Our identities,
your reflections, in bitparts.
Proudly, your daughters.
your reflections, in bitparts.
Proudly, your daughters.
Winter’s Feathered Dance
The onset of winter brings a quiet magic, a stillness that envelops the world and invites us to notice the smaller, gentler moments around u...
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The 12 inch heel, the confident gait, The measured steps, the sudden halt, The blush on cheeks, the smoldering eyes, The hands on h...
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He went there. Daily. Unfailingly. His conversations, Candid, Intimate. And why not! He had Inspired That iron-man, ...
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The sun was nearly gone. So were the last of his passengers. That was what he thought. Driving the cab at snail-pace through city’s traffi...
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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.