In the whispering winds that sweep the hills, Where golden fields kiss endless skies, There lies a land of ancient dreams, Moldova — cradle of my heart’s sunrise. Here, where rivers sing with Zamfir’s flute, And for » Continue Reading
It starts with a feeling. Not a memory— A feeling . A hush in the chest. A flicker behind the ribs. A quiet warmth like you’ve just remembered something precious you never meant to forget. The ocean knows. The sky knows » Continue Reading
I was seven when the sky decided to cry like it meant it. A full storm, not soft, not gentle. So we climbed upstairs in Grandma’s house— the floor creaked like it missed us. The candle flickered on the nightstand like a tiny moon, and we went to bed with it watching over us. My sister’s breath was warm and close, and outside, the rain told the trees things we couldn’t hear yet. The night hummed a ... » Continue Reading
Then I realize what I said. The words hung in the air like smoke that won’t clear, like glass shattering in slow motion — every fragment sharp enough to remember, but too many to ever piece back together. Then I was » Continue Reading
Then I realize what I said. Then I was mad. Mad at him, mad at her, mad at myself. Mad because I wanted him and I can’t have him. Because I’m just the other woman — a shadow, a half-ghost, a secret that tastes like ash when I try to swallow it. » Continue Reading
I love you forever. I love you forever — a whisper through the static, neon bleeding down the avenue where memories slow-dance. You said the future was a rumor we could chase together, so I learn the shape of moonlight by the curve of your hands. You will. Y » Continue Reading
Cristi — Thing is… the real Gabi liked watermelon, but I like ice cream best. I like papicco more than gachigachi-kun. I like cats and movies — no such thing as a boring movie for me. Gabi hated studying, but I actually love it (even if I’m not very good at it). Small things. Tiny truths. I need to say something I’ve been holding in: I fell for you this summer. Not a » Continue Reading
Thing is… the real Gabi liked watermelon, but I like ice cream best, and papicco more than gachigachi-kun. I like cats, and movies too — no such thing as a boring movie, not for me. » Continue Reading
In another life we'd learn the map of mornings — trace the soft geography of each other's faces, spend whole summers inventing reasons to stay. You are the spell that makes the margin burn with ink; you are the small, impossible gravity that drags me out of safe sentences and into risk. Golden-brown mornings, coffee-stained and slow, your name folded into every ordinary thing — a » Continue Reading
In the attic where the glass toys sleep, cracks in the silence run cold and deep. The music box hums with a broken key, singing a hymn of what used to be. Crystal of forgotten » Continue Reading
Dust gathers where laughter used to bloom, a broken doll’s eye stares at the ceiling — silent witness to the years that rotted through the once-bright wallpaper of dreams. The rocking horse moves on its own, a creak » Continue Reading
If I could unspool the thread of time, rewind each knot, each stumble, each vow, I’d guard the places where I failed you, and never let you fall alone. It was always lighter with your laughter, the world less cruel when shared— two hands against the dark, two hearts breaking bread with the same silence. I love you, Felicity— a truth that never bent, a fire that burned even in rain. And you, with e... » Continue Reading