quartzink

“After all this end, can we come back here one more and share a meal again?”

She said this in a quiet voice, as if speaking any louder would break the fragility of her dream.

Sweetly, you glance up at me

This coy look in your eyes only means trouble, I know

But what else can I do but helplessly smile back?
 

The taste of peaches is strong on my tongue

The vision of the orchard, blossoming trees stretched as far as the eye can see 

They still fill my vision

I still haven’t register the scent of smoke

She was born in the throngs of war.

Cries of fevor ringing through battlefield.

They prayed for salvation.

Her eyes opened.

They clamored to be freed.

She freed them.