Reflective Essays and Poetic Musings by Condemiang + Stories About the World

Love of my life, I'm here, just a little distance from you. I can smell your breath, and I can hear your smile. Look at me—just for a moment— before you burn out. You, the endless whisper of my life. We cross the one-third line, from time to time. I rushed out to see the sunset—pure gold after the pouring rain. And to see your face. And to breathe you in.

Friends, look to the heavens—the ones we can see with our own eyes. But we do not truly see them. It is with the eyes of the mind that heaven comes into view.

I've never seen such a mystic panorama. It looks like your lips—but it's too cold. It looks like your nails—but it's too soft against my back.