The simple joy of silence, the tone of the furnace running. A fruity tasty glass of cabernet, slowly sipping. A candle burning, soft and glowy, the scent of creme caramel. Twilight fading, fluorescent grey. Violet, periwinkle, a burst of vibrating electric neon watermelon as the sun melts away. A child sleeping peacefully, rosy flushed cheeks, as in a stillife. The twinkly magic sparkle of any natural diamond. Black soft cotton tshirt so velveteen and suedey against skin. Skin against skin. The hum of a body in sync with the moment. Like the vibration after a great massage or a relaxing soak or amazing sex. A beach with southern exposure at approximately 7pm in the summertime. A night overlooking and being a part of NYC from a rooftop. A sweltering crowded evening drink in Little Italy at 11pm. Feeling energized and completely alone walking down 42nd Street at a ghostly 5am. Snuggling down into sumptuous silken gazillion thread count sheets. Hearing the bustle of life awakening again, it is the same hush tone of the furnace. The vibration of the Earth. You are a part of it. This is the moment.
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