It is morning, the temperature is perfect.
Her clothes feel good against her skin
The air circulating around her face and neck is gentle and warm

She floats on, her movements languid
She feels surrounded by water but she is not.
She drives home merging into the traffic
She closes her eyes for a split second so she can hold on to this moment
Feeling things so delicate, things imperceptible
She knows that love is carried on the wind

x.