Neige Noire

It blooms on the day of remembrance of the dead and grows in cemeteries. It's beauty is really capable of killing

The pain is spreading and strengthening, engulfing and destroying all the good. Time treats any wounds, but often only after death, and as long as we are alive, the pain lives in us, burning, makes you bend to avoid it. And here, winding, we turn around and become others.

  “I risk a grin at the thought. Because there's a part of me that likes thatidea.  Get out of town and never look back.”  Daisy Whitney, When You Were Here

Lewrence Mark, “Prince of Thorns”