He brought her tea and oranges that came all the way from China. And she loved the merchant sailor, and she wanted to travel with him, she wanted to go blind, she wanted to be lost in silks and golden reds and eat oranges in the morning, take him to her bed beneath the waves. She painted all her nails the color of the blood that crucified the savior, and she kissed the holy grail of this longing to be wandering beneath the heavens that come all the way from China. The ancient chimes go silent as the valley of her bed is bursting with the jasmine and she cries for the love and she cries for the moment to touch his perfect body tracing the night in every inky picture. She wants to be his lover that comes to him a dove, comes to him down foggy halls where the memory of her lingers like perfume on your pillow, perfume that comes all the way from China.
In Memory of Lenard
Author Bio:
Writing is Nancy Baker's passion. She is a photographer, published writer and artist.
In Memory of Lenard
Author Bio:
Writing is Nancy Baker's passion. She is a photographer, published writer and artist.
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