thoughts...

[azurelunatic]

This is not the sort of passionstorm that melts down mountains in an afternoon. This is not love like hurricane, forest fire, tsunami, avalanche: brilliant and destructive. Forces of nature are they, and force of nature am I: but I am not them.

Consider, at the walls of yourself, the steady breeze, whispering away the stonework year by year, touch upon touch. Consider a single lamp in the night. Hear my smile in the gentle flow of water, steadfast as rock beneath the feet.