Appetizer Janice remembers being a piscesean after finishing a bowl of catfish on tamarind soup. Touching her navel, she thinks about the seeds of the strange fish she had just consumed. Back in her hometown, she heard rumors in the market that they were harvested from a graveyard ditch. Aversion to mud and stank gone …
Au Contraire Teak wood flowers, snow drops cluster on every branch, small fragrant ones; a blizzard without a warning on a November morning, it’s as if winter set in early. They left shadows and the leaves crocheted ; a white haze on the hills, spring time, summer time, refusing to let winter in.
In the space between breath and paper resides the romantic thinker a curse of red wine headache dreams that cling like thorny wet socks in heavy leather boots worn through each day. But, the sex sure can be great.
credit: Brandi Reynolds website – http://brandireynolds.com twitter – @brandireyn