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poetry

The first taste

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The wafting scent
Oak and smoke and peat
Drifting up and drawing me in
I can taste in the vapor
The impending satisfaction
The forthcoming soothing of all my troubles

You’re like that first taste
Anticipation nearly
(but not quite)
As good
As the having

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About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.

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Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

March 2014
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