I wish I could bottle this cool breeze and save it for later. Because I know we’re going to need it.
I don’t want it to go to waste, so I’m going to close my eyes and enjoy it. It’s like cool caresses on my skin.
“The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the distillation, it is odorless,
It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it,
I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,
I am mad for it to be in contact with me.”
From Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself.
No comments:
Post a Comment
thanks for your comment!
(good or bad. i can take it.)