Pale facet roads, tricky moments.
The odor of her olive colored lips sounded like a Bajan.
Pain was flowing in the folds of her face.
A heavy naked laughter was resting in her eyes.
Heart toned like flowering mustard flowers.
The gazelle of morning breeze buried in the yellow soil
My sight’s wave dissolved in the mist
Tears soaked in wet silences.
Light worms died off in the hand of dust.