Sunday in Rabat.
When temperature comes down, colors are more pronounced. The eye sees more and intense, that's how I feel it any way.
Along the small side roads there where the boys sell their small puppies they bargain today about yellow.
Corn in leaves, lemon as carpets on the earth, heavy branches under the weight of mimosa blossoming. The seasons of trees are endless or just almost eternal while the last blossoming has been a short while.
I see corn in my kitchen, smooth sweet to grill served with large sea salt and parsley butter. Lemon pie and thirsty girls like lemonade: water add with pressed lemon and a spoon of sugar.
When temperature comes down, colors are more pronounced. The eye sees more and intense, that's how I feel it any way.
Along the small side roads there where the boys sell their small puppies they bargain today about yellow.
Corn in leaves, lemon as carpets on the earth, heavy branches under the weight of mimosa blossoming. The seasons of trees are endless or just almost eternal while the last blossoming has been a short while.
I see corn in my kitchen, smooth sweet to grill served with large sea salt and parsley butter. Lemon pie and thirsty girls like lemonade: water add with pressed lemon and a spoon of sugar.