“My love, why did you burn our photographs, in the inglenook fire?”
“It was nothing, my love,
mere petulance,
Come, fill me with desire.”
“But, they were unique?
Did you not think that such a thing would hurt?”
“Come, do not be sentimental my love,
Local poet/writer. ‘There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man; true nobility is being superior to your former self.’ E. Hemingway. All ©️DMM