Pillow Talk
Stone/lid: Calcutta, Tuscany
Morning light spilled into the bedroom and the melody escaped out of the window and down to the city below. It was only Saturday, and neither had anywhere they had to be. They both knew they might linger there for hours, or the whole day, or two, dissolving into conversation, and pleasure, and one another, as naturally as cream into coffee.
Curl up in a perfect moment and wile away a day, a week, a lifetime. A long, languorous morning when the world feels wondrous, made bright and alluring with a taste of the new. Delicate orris blooms perfume the breeze from an open window, caressing bare skin and interlaced fingers. Yesterday’s perfume lingers on crisp white bedlinens, spicy and seductive, warmed by cinnamon-citrus sunshine. Powdery, with an enveloping musk. A little love nest to cosy into and stay a while.
Stone/lid: Calcutta, Tuscany
Morning light spilled into the bedroom and the melody escaped out of the window and down to the city below. It was only Saturday, and neither had anywhere they had to be. They both knew they might linger there for hours, or the whole day, or two, dissolving into conversation, and pleasure, and one another, as naturally as cream into coffee.
Curl up in a perfect moment and wile away a day, a week, a lifetime. A long, languorous morning when the world feels wondrous, made bright and alluring with a taste of the new. Delicate orris blooms perfume the breeze from an open window, caressing bare skin and interlaced fingers. Yesterday’s perfume lingers on crisp white bedlinens, spicy and seductive, warmed by cinnamon-citrus sunshine. Powdery, with an enveloping musk. A little love nest to cosy into and stay a while.