ena dear:
But i pluck the willow of sorrow. A gulf divides us, and there is no fairy bridge Of birds to carry me across.
ena dear:
'how many loved your moments of glad grace, & loved your beauty with love false or true...'
ena dear:
i'm leaving for paris, i don't think i'll see you; i don't think i need too. i pray u won't follow through the crooked streets behind me. goodbye....
ena dear:
a myriad of brief love affairs_ flirtations with words, actions, or not , dances that ended after merely a few slow songs.
