The warmth of a cozy bed

A loved body nestled close

Stretching out time just a little bit

And a lazy interlude in a busy day

Green red and yellow beneath my knife

A heady leafy smell on my fingertips

The whirr of grinding spices

And the timeless act of everyday creation

The giddy tang of a sweaty body

Ache of muscles unused

Racing heartbeats pumped up blood

And body and mind pulsing to a perfect place

Words that strike a chord stop your breath

Hold you beyond time and place

Quiet evenings lost in alien worlds

And language more real than life itself

Silent conversations stolen moments

Gateways to buried thoughts

Introspective questions contemplation

And the joys of hushed solitude.


UL said…
except for that cooking part, I would agree with everything else..! there's no joy or relaxation for me in the kitchen :)
small talk said…
:) when i actually get down to cooking, i enjoy it. problem is, it is so rare!

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