“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 Image
“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… — Anne de Gandt Copy Share Image
“Couples follow each other, sure of themselves and bold, in the starchy set of the easy ways. The concessions gap is growing. Dominant models… — Anne de Gandt Copy Share Image
“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… — Anne de Gandt Copy Share Image
“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
