here's to opening and upward, to leaf and to sap
and to your(in my arms flowering so new)
self whose eyes smell of the sound of rain
-e. e. cummings
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
The end of the night market. Yup - time to go home. I don't like the night market, all the people get to me. It was the smells that got to Claire. Who knew stinky tofu was that stinky?!
No comments:
Post a Comment