Some things
A dream pickled and cured in silky time. Rolled in a wrap of stories and served cold. A tasty bite of sushi.
All the seas and oceans evaporated. They condensed into a tiny, latticed crystal of salt. The salt then lay as a speck of beauty and madness on the fold of a thick, purple napkin.
A teacup in white china with a spring pattern. Scattered cheery motifs of daffodils, sunflowers, berries, poodles, kittens, parrots, oranges, balls of yarn. Each motif with a vein of eye-popping colour. Each motif small, the size of a nail. Itricate and complete. The teacup has smooth, creamy milk, later sweetened with sunshine from a country garden.
Burgandy lace sheath for a postcard made of bamboo. On it, a shoemaker's address.
Hot chocolate with cinnamon spinkled on the foam. Like freckles on air.
Stepped into the Lladro showroom yesterday. Like a few pieces. Cannot afford them yet. So, wrote about them to remember them by.
All the seas and oceans evaporated. They condensed into a tiny, latticed crystal of salt. The salt then lay as a speck of beauty and madness on the fold of a thick, purple napkin.
A teacup in white china with a spring pattern. Scattered cheery motifs of daffodils, sunflowers, berries, poodles, kittens, parrots, oranges, balls of yarn. Each motif with a vein of eye-popping colour. Each motif small, the size of a nail. Itricate and complete. The teacup has smooth, creamy milk, later sweetened with sunshine from a country garden.
Burgandy lace sheath for a postcard made of bamboo. On it, a shoemaker's address.
Hot chocolate with cinnamon spinkled on the foam. Like freckles on air.
Stepped into the Lladro showroom yesterday. Like a few pieces. Cannot afford them yet. So, wrote about them to remember them by.
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