sandals

Written by: Yolanda Jones

My chariot arrived around noon the quarry was thickened with faint hushes while cedar and elm chased about raw scents throughout the draw bridges lined with knotted ropes of husk tainted with rusted metal rings clinging to the sound of my footsteps as I entered the coach daintily folded nestled in complete thought channeling sensual needs beyond my beckoning soul pining away at the seams a sheer blessed meaningful lesson toiled beneath my bronzed feet wrapped in mink and leather attire while my eyes whispered a shyfulness hidden behind a masquerade of soundless gestures heard only at the sound of an infamous pin drop