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Description
"They took everything.They even took your name.
She came every day for awhile when the wind was at her heart's door. Perhaps to finish something left till a tomorrow that never came or to speak a regret to the stones cold over you.
Candles could not burn hot enough.
Not for this. Not for you or for any future taken. Dinners on a single plate. A crib never filled or a bed that will for a time be only half warm.

But time is a sea that erases all castles of memory.
Her and the autumn. Her and the crimson black soot of burning you away. Waves that dare to part and the blasphemies of age.
This trace of calling you back but only to follow. Love like heathen's justice."

ransacked grave - pere lachaise, paris
oilgraph on canvas

Description
"They took everything.They even took your name.
She came every day for awhile when the wind was at her heart's door. Perhaps to finish something left till a tomorrow that never came or to speak a regret to the stones cold over you.
Candles could not burn hot enough.
Not for this. Not for you or for any future taken. Dinners on a single plate. A crib never filled or a bed that will for a time be only half warm.

But time is a sea that erases all castles of memory.
Her and the autumn. Her and the crimson black soot of burning you away. Waves that dare to part and the blasphemies of age.
This trace of calling you back but only to follow. Love like heathen's justice."

ransacked grave - pere lachaise, paris
oilgraph on canvas