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The Breeze
The Breeze
At heated times, I felt my heart needed to be powdered by a drizzle of fragrance. Fragrance of freshness with cool element of attention and care, soft enough to transport me back to my childhood where I snuggled in the warm bosom of my favourite aunt. I knew of such breeze that blew.
On sunny days, I felt that I was content with the marking of foreign shadows. Shadows of semi staleness that patches its smell onto me, free enough for me to tolerate and begin to wonder if I am already blessed with this trace of drizzled fragrance. This is how the breeze blows.
The rain stopped, and the sun dries up, leaving just thoughts of long wet cold dark water slowly shivering my body. Shivers only bringing me to long the fragrance that once traveled in me, that delivered me to my childhood. This breeze is now blown away, and with it carries my undried tears.
