Dear Memories of my Melancholy Whores,
Love is a peculiar thing. We never know when it will strike, and for you it was 90 years old. I enjoyed seeing the change in you as love grew and changed. I’m glad I got the chance to meet you.
Love Letters to Books
Dear Memories of my Melancholy Whores,
Love is a peculiar thing. We never know when it will strike, and for you it was 90 years old. I enjoyed seeing the change in you as love grew and changed. I’m glad I got the chance to meet you.
