The Obscure Semiotics of Winter

[etoile_emeraude]

It snowed today, small flurries. A year ago, exactly, we watched naked fruit shiver in crates on the street corner-- piles of pommegranates, green mangoe-- without mittens or blankets, covered in snow. I no longer feel a fruit exotic to this city but still I hate the cold

Comments

[maple_leaf_guy]

A little part of me falls in love with every entry you write.

[cupofsun]

Every word you place on this earth blooms. Every breath you exhale onto the blank canvas of air becomes scripture. I wish I had seen you there. It was a long weekend. I couldn't make it. I need to have my friend soon.