The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
I don’t have time enough to celebrate your hair. One by one I should detail your hairs and praise them. Other lovers want to live with particular eyes; I only want to be your stylist. In Italy they called you…
The light that rises from your feet to your hair, the strength enfolding your delicate form, are not mother of pearl, not chilly silver: you are made of bread, a bread the fire adores. The grain grew high in its…
Full woman, flesh-apple, hot moon,thick smell of seaweed, mud and light in masquerade,what secret clarity opens through your columns?What ancient night does a man touch with his senses? Oh, love is a journey with water and stars,with drowning air and…
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. I hunger for your sleek…
This beauty is soft-as if music and wood,agate, cloth, wheat, peaches the light shines throughhad made an ephemeral statue.And now she sends her freshness out, against the waves. The sea dabbles at those tanned feet, repeatingtheir shape, just imprinted in…
There where the waves shatter on the restless rocks the clear light bursts and enacts its rose, and the sea-circle shrinks to a cluster of buds, to one drop of blue salt, falling. O bright magnolia bursting in the foam,…
If your eyes were not the color of the moon, of a day full of clay, and work, and fire, if even held-in you did not move in agile grace like the air, if you were not an amber week,…
Come with me, I said, and no one knew where, or how my pain throbbed, no carnations or barcaroles for me, only a wound that love had opened. I said it again: Come with me, as if I were dying,…
Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips: maybe it was the voice of the rain crying, a cracked bell, or a torn heart. Something from far off: it seemed…
I did not hold your night, or your air, or the dawn: only the earth, the truth of the fruit in clusters, the apples that swell as they drink the sweet water, the clay and the resins of your sweet-smelling…