Ana-log No. 6 (January, February and March)

I could go on and on telling you stories about how dandelions could only dream about the softness of her permeable lips, or how the starry skies envied the twinkle of her eager eyes, but that wouldn’t mean much to you, now would it? That wouldn’t bring you the invigorating taste of her honeycombed kisses and you very well know why. You are a spirit, a ghost, nothing but an intangible illusion who will never harness the power to materialize itself. Or that is simply what you are to her.