Sunday 12 June 2016

Soil softened, tenderized by firm pattering rain
Like dough kneaded intimately with round fingertips
Like skin made supple by massage
Emits a distinctive smell
The smell of touch
The soil, it smells of a new beginning
As if a new possibility has arrived borne by the dark rain clouds

As if a new look of love has come into the eyes of your old lover.

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