It’s like homemade marinara simmering all day, choosing different spices to elevate the flavor, allow it to meld, a unique mixture every time; or dark flavorful coffee, aroma wafting through the hallway to reach me in bed as I wake, silently, next to my dog, feeling the sunlight on my bare arms; or a conversation, less about the words and more about the intent, the tone of voice, lilting, the body so protective, reaching over me, soft yet strong, the eye contact, gazing, percolating. A mystery. A complex combination to keep me engaged. What will be said next?
Just a small bowl, a petite mug, a lingering touch, and I’m satisfied.
Musings and Flow 