Dear Frida,

The heart dies a slow death...

Shedding each hope like leaves... until one day there are none.... no hopes... nothing remains....

It is not for woman to want. to feel. she dances. she sings. the rest is shadows. the rest is secret.

you cannot say to the sun "more sun".. you cannot say to the rain "more rain".......

Every step i have taken was one to bring me closer to you.


-L