Frankie's Story

Light and Smoke

I wake earlier these morning. It's dark at 4am; and the quiet I have always loved to write in seems very noisy.

I move to my kitchen and light a stick of Santo Palo.

As I use my breath to fuel the reddened embers and note the steady stream of fluid smoke lifting.... I take a turn about my house and name what I so fortunate to have.

'Couch = rest.....'

'Fridge = nourishment....'

'Balcony = access .... to the outdoors...'

when i come to my bed I note a creeping desire .

'Bed = passion.... touch..... sex.....'

this not the actual state of things at this time for me as a single  woman. But i let the smoke tussle with the folds of my sheets.It is good to think on 'one day'. I am not defeatist. I believe in future.