The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
It’s good to feel you close in the night, Love, invisible in your sleep, earnestly nocturnal, while I untangle my confusions like bewildered nets. Absent, your heart sails through dreams, but your body breathes, abandoned like this, searching for me…
As we close this nocturnal door, my love, come with me, through the shadowy places. Close your dreams, Love, enter my eyes with your skies, spread out through my blood like a wide river. Good-bye to the cruel daylight, which…
And now you’re mine. Rest with your dream in my dream. Love and pain and work should all sleep, now. The night turns on its invisible wheels, and you are pure beside me as a sleeping amber. No one else,…
My love, I returned from travel and sorrowto your voice, to your hand flying on the guitar,to the fire interrupting the autumn with kisses,to the night that circles through the sky. I ask for bread and dominion for all;for the…
By night, Love, tie your heart to mine, and the twotogether in their sleep will defeat the darknesslike a double drum in the forest, poundingagainst the thick wall of wet leaves. Night travel: black flame of sleepthat snips the threads…
I have no never-again, I have no always. In the sand victory abandoned its footprints. I am a poor man willing to love his fellow men. I don’t know who you are. I love you. I don’t give away thorns,…
Today is today, with the weight of all past time, with the wings of all that will be tomorrow; today is the South of the sea, water’s old age, the composition of a new day. The petals of a finished…
With the patience of a bear, Diego Rivera hunted through paint for the forest’s emerald, or vermillion, the blood’s sudden flower; in your picture he gathered the light of the world. He painted the imperious clothing of your nose, the…
Here are the house, the sea, the flag. We wander past other long fences. We couldn’t find the gate, nor the sound of our absence-as if dead. At last the house opens its silence, we enter, step over abandoned stuff,…
Wet with the waters of August, the road shines as if cut through the full moon, the full light of an apple, through the middle of the autumn’s fruit. Fog, space, or sky, the vague net of the day swells…