“...I recall that day on the beach - the sand so brilliant, the clouds so massive, and the wind punishing your hair...”

“...you lifted the veil when you admitted you had no memory of that day - it was so special and your lack of recall so monstrous...”

“...strands of your hair and tendrils of the wind spin into nothingness the memories of that day...”

“...we went to watch the waves that bitter day and the wind took your red cap and mittens - blew them into the sea...”

“...words are so strong and I am so timid - my soul ignores warnings and I end up covered with your paint ...”

“...I pluck every day from my sweater or chair, red hairs...strands of significance, traces of you in my life ...”

“...in India ink your writing is lovely, but not as lovely as your hand - it is your hand - I know your hand - it fits so well in mine ...”