Tears of Amber

Being with Marco Stillinger was a journey that took me through an ocean of sterling experience. One where I gave all that I had to give, and like a blizzard, he ripped every leaf from my tree. But those winters died quickly and were replaced by endless springs, where his great sun came to shine on me and I sprouted new leaves. One would think that could be an endless cycle. Have not the seasons always done that? Trotted along behind one another, never breaking their endless circle. What could cleave them apart?