‘The bandages would go off in a week,’ you say. I don’t know your voice yet, but I know how to trust it. It reverberates in me, in that forgotten place kept for new love. New love, at fifty-six? ‘Just rest for now, all right?’ It’s a musical voice, a baritone? No, brighter, a velvety… Continue reading First Date
Rostislava Pankova-Karadjova 