It reads like whirlwind romance tangled up in finer details. “Fingers playing ivories towards my laughter” carries a poetic notion within the telling of story and fantastic reality. He’s a lucky man to have you and you’re lucky to have this strange man in return! Compellingly positive….

Joy,
You know, live wears many different costumes, and is a quick-change artist, too. In the sensory overload of 21st century life, it seems an impossibility to stop long enough to see anything, really. When was the last time you knew of a new “painted lady house?” No, todays houses are all little boxes because no one has the time for beauty, any more.
Vol

It is refreshing to see new “voices” in here. Yours is quite entertaining and I like how it isn’t routine anything. I read a few of your writes, to get an idea of what the author is about. You’re top notch.

Many thank yous for such a generous review, truly mean that. Must admit, I write as I think – randomly! Obviously a little editing is done but probably not enough – but I try.

The topnotch will do very nicely and is much appreciated. But, the pressure’s on now!!! 🙂

I have done a fair amount of cursing in my day, Fia.
But the muse turns a blind ear.
j.

Sometimes it feels like certain people are drawn into your life for different reasons, not always for communication or connection, but for maybe even deeper philosophical meanings than even those can provide (I recommend all the Stoics, of course) It always pays to patient…and observant. Good form and thoughtfulness.

Brilliantly penned, Fia. Always dig your musings my friend. Appreciate you, cuz.

Damian

Thank you ;))

A very striking and succinct piece. A fire burns in these verses.
Regards James

Your writing always conveys your emotions very precisely, emotionally. I mean this: many thanks for sharing what appear to be deep, deep feelings. Can only hope that time will lessen the pain felt as soon as can, Fia.

This felt like a travelling within the mind and being trapped.
j.

Ok.

A haunting, beautifully layered meditation on loss, memory, and ritual. The imagery is vivid and intimate, moving effortlessly between grief, remembrance, and fleeting moments of connection. The poem lingers like smoke, both tender and unflinching.