Shouldn't…but Do

A bog about a pen that multi-tasks between here and there brought about these two reflections:

“Right now an old perfume bottle from one of the girls’ stashes sits next to me. It’s shaped like an acorn.The scent reminds me of innocent times, young girls learning to be women.” – Jill

I thought this remarkable. The evanescent scent of maidenhood bottled, long ago, for that is what girlhood is. An acorn – destined for power, for so-sweet pain. Rarely is a sigh so clearly described.

“Funny how it is that when I am stopped by and for “the length of a black plastic pen” I realize something about “kissing eternity as it flies”. – Jann

And this post caught the soul of it, the special thing, a kiss, the bared admission in passing.

Sighs and kisses, and the secrets they held, our only and our best, as fleeting as the time they chase.

Thank you for these comments, so rich.