He bought her birds and not just any type: Quail, wicker, and one from Spain.
I placed them on top a dresser in her room.
She cried.
Spring waltzes in: beautiful, hard to describe, sensual. There is something old fashioned in her grace, tender to her touch. She slips off, leaving you lost in a bed of hyacinth.
~ a dove’s call
“Children should be seen, not heard.” She says it once, her voice stern. I notice the lock of hair that falls loose and softens her face, a strand I want to touch yet dare not. My grandmother’s hands are clasped, hiding her fingers. Fingers that will never touch my cheek or stroke my hair. A […]
Read moreI once read that the path to discovery is never a straight line. It’s a spiral and you keep circling back to find new truths. This is how I felt. The more I searched, the less I knew, yet, the more I understood. ~Annie
Read more“Let me pour my warm yellow light all over you.”
Hello Spring! Yellow cabs, submarines, and daffodils. Freshness, clarity and joy. DIY ikea fabric Dollar Store canvas Stapler
Read moreShe was full of birdsong at sunrise written notes, long conversation a sin and a prayer the scent of cut lemon and crushed rose Seventies rock and shuffling blues With a little bit of save the world And I loved her for all that she thought she wasn’t ~cashmere and cotton
Read moreas the sun slipped behind a cloud
and the sky faded to dark she leaned into the porch swing, lit a cigarette, closed her eyes, and whispered his name
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