Verbena

Colourless, powerless, lifeless we appeared to them. Cloyingly gray, sickly and weak. Palefaces they called us...+3

Smoky oil. Hot metal shards. Assembly lines, print rolls, greasy pinions. Feeding the punch-clock. Industry sketched in black and white.+1

Wind and waves. Wandering clouds. A quiet lighthouse. A steaming teapot. White sails and a blue horizon. A heart longing for distant shores.+1

Smells like beer. Not freshly drawn, but disgustingly stale and sticky-sweet. Upsets the stomach, and wearing it feels like a hangover. :(+1

Your embrace. So powerful and inviting. Savage... just a bit. Your warmth. Your comfort. Your shelter. Deeply-rooted. Homeward bound.+1

Sprays of salty mist dashing against the pier. A dogger crawling through the bay, haunted by greedy seagulls. Seaweed rocking on the waves.+1

Just a flick of the wrist. The leather jacket drops leaving only bare skin clad in a tank top. Rose Oud as sexy understatement. Cool show.+2

The bitter soul of the blackest currant. Pepper seeds glowing purple. The echo of subterranean thunder. Rocky layers shaken in the deep.+4

Bitter wind and leather rags. Silver spurs, untamed and bold. Man's primal scream. Scent legend carved in mossy stone.+5

Such tiny white flowers wrapped in shady dark green. Vehemently fragrant. Invincible. Enchanted. The eternal return of a smile in May.+4