16 May 2013


In my mind I am diving down as deep as I can into the darkest depths of crimson damask, weighted with multitudinous froths of lace edged petticoats, breathing heady, smuggled, 18th Century Fragonard inspired scents of rose, jasmine and vetiver combined with the heat, sweat and dust of the Caribbean. I am still searching for the music that I know she danced to. I sink into the myth and magic of whispered tales from long ago.
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