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“Sometimes I get lost in the familiar silence of aloneness. I hear the nothingness of my breath playing in the rough spaces of my memory, a wanting tale from an artist holding a longing brush against a canvas not always his own. There, the dream revived, I say her name - a prayer that echoes eternally in my chamber.” — Tom Grasso
Sometimes I get lost in the familiar silence of aloneness. I hear the nothingness of my breath playing in the rough spaces of my memory, a wanting tale from an artist holding a longing brush against a canvas not always his own. There, the dream revived, I say her name - a prayer that echoes eternally in my chamber.