Sunday, May 23, 2010

hands of raining water


The monsoon winds have begun. The leaves are mostly diagonal. The mornings are rain cool.

It's not an image but a smell: a cake of neem soap just opened and translucent, the drops of oil surfacing, then sitting in wait for second use. Neem flowers frozen then dried; fried an acrid brown and diluted with rice. A memory of heat without the experience of it. Bitterness transmuted on the tongue.

6 comments:

Ludwig said...

Oh my.

JP said...

'A memory of heat without the experience of it...'

That is a wonderful sentence, and a wonderful thought.

Banno said...

Beautiful.

dipali said...

Lovely!

sumana001 said...

This is so ... beautiful!

Space Bar said...

thanks all. of course all of this is now temporarily untrue. what happens now is, when i type, i get burn marks on my wrist.