love my love

and you stand here, wind-blown by all your previous attempts, like by the northern air. they all —  zero. you were standing in the wrong place, giving chances to the wrong people, but as always — at the most appropriate (less) — but ideally necessary — moment — you suddenly heard a word that knocked off your entire shell of ingrained “no”. a word that so easily reached the middle of your self. to the center. to the starting point. touched. reached out. snatched. note C — like the first note of any octave. “before” to this moment. sounds. how it sounds…!

art

EN