Writing and thoughts about writing by Roxanna Matthews.
Friday, October 17, 2014
A month of nights, a year of days. Septembers drifting into Mays. I set my sails when the tide comes in and I just cast my fate to the wind. There never was, there couldn't be, a place in time for men like me, who face the dark and laugh at day and let their wildest dreams blow away.
I do love you so, Kyle! You wild, tender heart. You make each new day wonderful.