The Lighthouse is the place you said we would meet again.
"My Love, next winter meet me here." you said before walking away. My beloved, going off to sea. "Next winter…." you said to me.
So when next winter came, I waited; but your footsteps were not heard on those cold stone stairs below our meeting place. Night, then day, night, then day, night…. it snowed that night. By day… well I don’t remember that day.
What I remember is a mist from off the sea and a glowing ship with a figure on the bow… that looked like you.
Shit an Artist Would Understand
This is what I’m working to at the moment….
Found a bunch of face references… I love older subjects.