shimoda

Your taste is sweet, like honey and quince; You taste ocher and blue, always in move but there, still... Like fertile lands on-a-lull against blue skiesYour taste is greyish like stormy clouds; your taste is briny like excited turbulent sea embracing, caressing always penetrating soaking in your passionYour taste is white like the words written in-between these lines carefully crafted on this fragile alphabet ad lib written upon our skin