Love letters

 

I changed the linen. Wanton leaves had insinuated themselves into the clean sheets. They fell out onto the beds, and tickled my hands as I collected them.

The scent of violets wafts through the air, seducing me into the garden.

Buds are forming on the almond tree. On this cold gray day, one burst into flower.

A cheeky pink salvia peeps around the house. She winks and smiles as I walk down the side.

I was pinned to a path, tantalised. Breathing heavily, I turned my head, looked down: daphne.

What are these but love letters? Written by the earth, mailed by the wind, seized from the air by me and opened. Ravishing, sensual, I hold them close to my heart. My day is pierced with delight.