One day, the money will turn to ash. Sand will form into glass only to break again. Wet tears will momentarily make dry skin moist. The facades will fade to nothingness. The sex appeal and enthusiasm of youth unexplored will dissipate. Smooth lips will chap. Tight skin may wither like autumn leaves preparing to change colors and fall to the chilled earth. But the hopes of prayers unspoken will rise to the top like cream from slowly turned butter. A desolate, sparkling rose in a transparent vase twirls before the eyes of man. At that moment, when the world is silent and real love seems distant… you will think of someone that dared to care, that dared to dream, that dared to cherish the heart of a loner. Who never wanted anything beyond peace and simplicity.
Love always, Esha ❤
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