R.M. Dolin, December 2024
The despondent night closes in on a bitter day that’s drained every fiber of emotion. A dark relentlessness devoid of place and context dares me to face the reality of dying having never been loved. I picture you fresh in my mind, a lingering scent providing no peace. It is a fool who falls in love, and I willingly remain that fool. Angels watch over me providing comfort and protection, but as any good accountant can attest, angels often take their share.
