If lingering talks around the DASHEEN Circle are as bonafide as I believe, then an appalling majority of us have no cause (not necessarily indicative of desire) to become intimate with ourselves.read more
Impossible to know a man or woman’s heart.
Every secret thing. Every beating desire. Mostly you must know it’s your interest which opened this door, your insistence which started this fire.read more
Swank for the purposes of this post is a drink, not a company or a Hilary or a hustle. Although there is something to be said for Urban Dictionary’s take.
Altogether, Swank–the drink rises above all else to defy definition.read more
The doving pot of memory was round, black, deep-bellied and seasoned. It maintained an infallible smooth and shine. I can see it now, in its place of pride, always shining and ready.
Ever ready for what usually began with an intriguing mix of brown sugar and oil, which aided by chemistry and inevitability became a vicious caramel froth, which could definitely slay a dragon, in the form of fowl, any version of venison and last but most importantly hunger pangs.read more