orchard.it

We are a fleeting moment of time inbetween “Not yet” and “No more”

Every morning Hair twisted round her finger She drinks from the tap

Sopraelevata, Surfing through Genova town, It’s good to be home

Waiting for sunlight, Birdsong on the breeze, Ebony thoughts

Crisp mountain sunlight, Through a slot in the curtains, Illuminates her

White fields yield to brown, T-Shirts replace jackets, Winter is going

Water is running, A disturbance in the bed, Nocturnal peeing

A lonely ascent, Mountain views for company, Will she be waiting?

My two favorite girls, Smiles as fresh as the sushi, A perfect evening