Tatiana, I love you. With the quiet of ordinary mornings. With the fire of every tomorrow I get to spend in your orbit. With everything I am, and everything I’m still becoming.
The morning light doesn’t wake the room so much as it surrenders to it, spilling gold across the pillows. And there, in the center of that quiet glow, is Tatiana. tatiana i love you
So here it is, plain and honest, no poetry to hide behind: Tatiana, I love you
I love you not because you are perfect, but because with you, imperfection feels like grace. is Tatiana. So here it is