
How to love 29 – Social pressures

I found this blue piece of art in the street the day after my grandmother passed away. She was small and silent. She was a painter. She had faith. Nobody understood her, but her love was as pure and fragile as a glass heart. The RAIN section is dedicated to you, dear O.
Sorry, I couldn’t say goodbye, and thank you for sharing your heart.
I give you all I am.
I give you all I have.
That is all I can offer.
No more.
No less.
A man looking for the light in India shared his human touch model with me.
Namaste friend.