Promises of future telling, of love spells and good fortune.
I sip slowly, gently tickled by the foam mustache of the delightful Turkish coffee and zoom her in intensely.
Laying my head back and snuggling between the comfy silk feathery pillows, smelling the oud aroma that fills in the room.
Her skin, sun burnt from dozens of sandy harsh summers.
Her eyes, a fierce green of algae, almost borrowing her their specific heavy scent.
Yet, the smoked vanilla aroma of my warm skin, and my inner peace are so disarming for the poor old creature.
Straightening up my back gently and having my warm wyes pierced into hers…
“Life should and will be lived, not revealed.
The amazing coffee is a silent vow that it already is a magnificent life”
She stands up, leaving like one hundred years older.
Life is always disarming for the one that only talks about it.