Taste: Irish coffee
Sight: orange breast, an orchard oriole; the black procession
Touch: rigid clutch of his dead hand; chilliness; a grain of sand in the eye
Sound: plashed
Smell: winter air, snow
Quotable:
"We are all of us imaginative in some form or other, for images are the brood of desire..." — George Eliot, Middlemarch
"To thirst and to drink is how one knows they are alive and grateful. To thirst and then not drink is..." Natalie Diaz, The First Water is the Body, Postcolonial Love Poem
Extra: the fellowship of illusion
A jolt of joy: seeing a friend
Grateful for: dancing
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