In those early years, I collected postcards. I remembered them all. Colors, neat lines, landscapes out of reach, emptiness with endless meanings... poems unwritten.
Then for many years, they felt like a cliche. Anyway, beautiful things are similar. Sugar photos. Silly young girls' fancy.
You thought they are gone.
But never.
Now they came back to my clicks. Again I perceived the soft delicacies, warm, comforting, everlasting. Roses are all the same. But still, they are roses, they are love, they are the light brighten your life, they are the tenderness you reflect to others.
The spring night was better than this picture. Moon, sakura, music in the air and dancing steps.
Then for many years, they felt like a cliche. Anyway, beautiful things are similar. Sugar photos. Silly young girls' fancy.
You thought they are gone.
But never.
Now they came back to my clicks. Again I perceived the soft delicacies, warm, comforting, everlasting. Roses are all the same. But still, they are roses, they are love, they are the light brighten your life, they are the tenderness you reflect to others.
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