I often just hold my breath as I read through the posts on Persisting Sighs. They are crisp like the snap of clean sheets and lush like smell of rose petals at sunset.
Today Madelyn quoted Neruda and channeled just how I felt earlier today, when I didn’t have the word to express what I saw:
Naked you are as simple as one of your hands,
smooth, terrestrial, tiny, round, transparent,
you have moon~lines, apple paths.
Naked you are as thin as bare wheat,
Naked you are blue like a Cuban night,
there are vines and stars in your hair,
Naked you are enormous and yellow
like summer in a gilded church.