22.2.26

Strawberries on a Summer Day

Then he ate another strawberry, but the strawberry tasted like ‘now’. Sometimes strawberries taste like a warm summer day, driving part Stonehenge, on the way to Bournemouth for the day. I do not demand transcendence, but I am porous enough that when life brushes past, I feel it. …and attention is love in its most sustainable form.