Love is everything you will not expect, shaping in ways you did not project. Love is late and lazy, often behind, never in time, a bang at the preordained curfew hour, always arriving right on time. It is seldom enough and a tyrant when it is too much. Love is kind of...

Whose footsteps whisper Secrets with my floor, Who comes knocking at my door? Who’s caressing my desires, Who slips the lingerie off my feelings, Who strokes my passion screaming Louder than a village crier, Who manifests to all the world The love that lurks in my...