Darkly operatic and brightly angelic. That's what he is. Curls of flame with eyes of onyx. And what else? Well.........

Winter always makes me want to watch Sinatra films. I'm not sure why. Pal Joey is one of the best. Such class. Where has it gone? I mean, is it really that difficult to be clean and care about your attire? I shall be lost in the drapery till morning.

Too cold, it is. I shall fly to a balmy oak tree in an unknown forest. Sitting at this altitude, the mist appears gossamer. Everything shimmers. This is what his glance does to me. It resonates like no other, for we synchronise mightily.

When the heart warms, the mind is ignited. Is it possible that you can see these dancing flames?

You've got a decade behind you. Or is it in front of you? Only a few familiar blooms do I see here. And these vibrations from the ether, are they different?

Wine races like sap through a tree. Red like blood. No, it's not a cliche. Cabernet doeth glitter like the moonlight on a white neck. Heh heh. We mean no harm.

The Southeast has the best light. Soft and warm. Let's sit in the sky for awhile and dream. I'll just toss you this velvet rope.

Interesting dream last night. Seems I was at a large outdoor party, when an older woman asked if I knew the streetname of where Lord Alfred Douglas used to live. Somehow, I was able to come up with three possible names, to which she then said, "you bumped into him once." Past life?