WL Schuett


Soft sea breezes . 

Cigarette papers ,


The cooing of the dove . 

A candle drip 

of homemade soap 

lingers in the walls . 


Sweet pouty lips , 

petals and thorns . 

Feathers woven 

throughout her hair . 

Lacey dreams of 

wetness and warmth . 


Sugared teas, 

the fragrance of love . 

Oranges , 

spices , 

brown earthen incense . 


Out on the street 

a child’s laughter 

through the parted 

curtains of time . 

Lost in mystery comes 

a word from the ages . 

Love ,

love , 


she smiles.