A taste of simering desire travels to the deepest part of the soul
As the does the smell of the jade colored tea to which mingles sometimes a fallen leaf
The rustle of the branches play a games of streaming lights
Some green some yellow some lighter than white
One slender finger slides along the softness of the teapot as if that itself was part of the pleasure
As I write a letter of longing to my beloved far away in the misty mountains of Edo
JE LEEST
Pensée Of Anemones
PoëzieA collection of Poetry I hide from my outside world and tell you unjudging strangers
