To My Love

But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,Who is already sick and pale with griefThat thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.
(William Shakespeare – Romeo and Juliet)

In honor of the annual celebration of love held every mid-Febru’ere, a day full of flowers and chocolates, sweethearts and bitter ones