I don't even know where to begin. I suppose the beginning might be best? I've tried blogging in the past, but I can never really seem to keep it going. So, I suppose this can be a re-birth of sorts. I always hate to see a blank page. I don't know that I have much to write about at this point. Too many of the sentences in this post start with "I." Maybe I'll leave you with the latest little piece I wrote. That way the page won't be blank. I really do hate the blank pages most.
The night air is cold as we fold our delicate wings and fall softly against one another. Shivering brings warmth, but so does the contact. Our sighing breaths provide a rhythm; lulling us each into a hazy, dream-filled sleep. Even within the subconscious swirls of my mind; I know that I love you more than anyone else ever could. Stay with me, my little bird.
My little darling; won't you stay?
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