*a little heart imprinted with beautiful words
English breakfast tea and
London postcard that never reached its true destination
an old-fashioned antique mirror
but do these things define us?
shy quiet pretty intelligent
I suppose there is a guardian angel or God or something watching me
because...
I don't know just how I met a friend like you
memories and books and cups of tea and inside Austen jokes
lovers of words and Darcy and kindness and joy
New York or London or Here
one year and 8 months and counting
when we've grown old and our backs crooked and our vision dimmed we will always have that cup of English breakfast tea with a little bit of milk*