Porridge. Honey. Nuts.
Jet engines in the background.
Small bubble of calm.
Lagoon risotto.
Tourists lost along canals.
Holiday begins.
Fisherman catches,
his wife and sons are cooking.
Now we feel at home.
Porridge. Honey. Nuts.
Jet engines in the background.
Small bubble of calm.
Lagoon risotto.
Tourists lost along canals.
Holiday begins.
Fisherman catches,
his wife and sons are cooking.
Now we feel at home.
A look back over your shoulder.
That gasp.
The refraction of a navel jewel.
The feeling before falling.
The imagination of the senses: the sight,
the smell, the touch – oh, the touch –
the deep deep stirring words bring.
Tongue roll smooth verbs round your mouth like cool pebbles, massaging your tongue and making lips smile. Then clean cut facets that tingle, nettle mint stingle, the sharpness, the crevice, the crack.