“I hide myself to avoid others; but the lust for life reasserts itself, through the boredom or in the inflection of distress. It's an escape, a tuneless melody, a painless lament. Broken line of a poem missing its author, writing… — Anne de Gandt Copy Share
“The arc of my dream, the curve of my desires, the hand on my wound. You move forward, shifting and fragile, in the sinuous… — Anne de Gandt Copy Share Image
“I seek a woman, the woman of my desires. Who won’t be scared by loyalty and truth, nor turn away from the darkness of a soiled past. – Decades” — Anne de Gandt Copy Share
“Couples follow each other, sure of themselves and bold, in the starchy set of the easy ways. The concessions gap is growing. Dominant models who want to be the rule, like a distorted norm of bad company. Sheltered with certainties, they look at me mockingly, while I struggle in a lost erroneous and obsolete myth; they tell me where to… — Anne de Gandt Copy Share
“I hide myself to avoid others; but the lust for life reasserts itself, through the boredom or in the inflection of distress. It's an escape, a tuneless melody, a painless lament. Broken line of a poem missing its author, writing of a deconstructed life, scar of a wound still open, the pain of living without love or being loved tarnishes… — Anne de Gandt Copy Share
“Red my memory, red my despair. Red my nights, red my bloody pain. What would I become without you, colour of my entrails?” — Anne de Gandt Copy Share Image
