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“I can’t come with you to Vegas,” she said, matter of fact. “Baby, why? Please.” He reached out for her hand, eyes somber, yet like his usual self, glimmering and hopeful. “Because every time I go, I make out with … Continue reading
“You’re too beautiful for me to sketch. I was scared if I tried I couldn’t trust that I’d get the details right, the tone of your soft accent, the smile at the corner of your eyes.” “That’s extravagant; you speak … Continue reading
I, Miss Mess, love and adore you, Philippe. You are my world, my heart when it beats, my warm sun rays, without you I am hopelessly dazed. If only I were a great poet, my words could describe your beauty, your intelligence, your wit, and its effect on me. But all … Continue reading