There is a gutsy finality to
the way you add curls of cream to the cup;
a knowing glint in the chintzy sheesha,
second-hand, jewelled, meditating on the
window-seat behind you. Beds of children
form foamy chains against the azure blankets
out there, above your head. Your glasses are
windowpanes, screens to a lighter view. Curled
in your belly is a shaman with the
bold dimensions of a project. You stir.
Jun 23, 2013
Jun 23, 2013 at 4:55 PM UTC
There is a gutsy finality to
the way you add curls of cream to the cup;
a knowing glint in the chintzy sheesha,
second-hand, jewelled, meditating on the
window-seat behind you. Beds of children
form foamy chains against the azure blankets
out there, above your head. Your glasses are
windowpanes, screens to a lighter view. Curled
in your belly is a shaman with the
bold dimensions of a project. You stir.
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