Breeze from beyond glass, window ajar, blows in scent of basil; so sweet, full of memory of then: when heat warmed skin, already golden from long days 'neath foreign sun; when food tasted better, simply by virtue of soil different, deliciously... Continue Reading →
Sheets tangled, intertwined with feet, skin thus clothed and unclothed by fabric and the cool air of the morning. Room an awakening to the night just passed, only remnant the glass his lips had touched.
Frail leaf, even its shadow trapped, imprisoned in the tangled web, aided by bodiless breeze - useless. The sun rises further; leaf quivers on into dust. The lady smiles.