These are the days of Medicine Stories, times when remedies are woven with the shreds of self punctured with living. Fiction or fact? Fables and parables wind themselves into a shawl and settle on bones weary yet still curious. Makua o'o practice life to the fullest extent of imagination and sensitivities. From sickness and delirium the way through will include stories. In traditions across the Planet and across the heavens Medicine comes from the essence of story. So, more from The Safety Pin Cafe ... If this medicine is not to your liking there is plenty on the sidebar that may suit you better.
A blush of pink, deep but fleeting brushed my shoulder. Softly a drape of inimitable fragrance. Mulberry. Wauke. Mulberry bark. Raven lay beside me. His large golden eyes reflected the sleepy lashes fringing my own. "Whose blush is deeper now?" he asked lifting the length of wauke under my hair. No doubt it would be mine -- my cheeks pulsed with heat, if not be the regret I had missed something. "Have I? Have I missed something?" Again with the questions. One naked, not-so-very-young border witch alone with The silver-haired Raven. "Missed? No not ever," Raven answered pulling his glasses from his waistcoat. Once in place the lenses magnified Raven's golden orbs. Worlds, a universe. Reaching his gloved hand toward me I stood.
Amused to find my sensible shoes laced up properly I laughed to imagine the sight of me -- us. My way had indeed been an unusual one. Right from the start, it would have been easier if I had not learned to read so early on. Filled with imagination from print and fables that suit me better than fighting, I sought story. Now on my feet and solid in my boots the weight of the kihei was like air. "It surprises me the winds could find me," revealing myself seemed natural with him. If there were secrets to keep, I wondered if my thoughts were safe ... "It makes no never-mind. In this room secrets cross borders, like yourself. Safety is an illusion, and time is flexible." Raven was reading my thoughts and the tea a potion of exchange.We were up the stairs, beyond the eyelet curtain the color of maples in a room above The Safety Pin Cafe.
The Safety Pin Cafe is Copyright Protection (c), 2012
Yvonne Mokihana Calizar
The taste of peppermint lingered. Neither cinnamon nor toast remained. A silky breeze teased at my hair, "Is that you Pale the border weed?" It was the rascal wind for very few knew me by that name. I was not so stunned to be fooled into giving up my identity without banter. The fact I was prone in a bed lined in stones was my clue; I evaded.Pale-wawaeThe joy weed. Alternanthera amoena. A small herb from Brazil, used as a low border for paths and flower beds. It has red, branching stems and variegated red, green and yellow, small oval leaves. - Hawaiian Dictionary, Pukui and Elbert
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| "Gentle breeze" |
A blush of pink, deep but fleeting brushed my shoulder. Softly a drape of inimitable fragrance. Mulberry. Wauke. Mulberry bark. Raven lay beside me. His large golden eyes reflected the sleepy lashes fringing my own. "Whose blush is deeper now?" he asked lifting the length of wauke under my hair. No doubt it would be mine -- my cheeks pulsed with heat, if not be the regret I had missed something. "Have I? Have I missed something?" Again with the questions. One naked, not-so-very-young border witch alone with The silver-haired Raven. "Missed? No not ever," Raven answered pulling his glasses from his waistcoat. Once in place the lenses magnified Raven's golden orbs. Worlds, a universe. Reaching his gloved hand toward me I stood.
Amused to find my sensible shoes laced up properly I laughed to imagine the sight of me -- us. My way had indeed been an unusual one. Right from the start, it would have been easier if I had not learned to read so early on. Filled with imagination from print and fables that suit me better than fighting, I sought story. Now on my feet and solid in my boots the weight of the kihei was like air. "It surprises me the winds could find me," revealing myself seemed natural with him. If there were secrets to keep, I wondered if my thoughts were safe ... "It makes no never-mind. In this room secrets cross borders, like yourself. Safety is an illusion, and time is flexible." Raven was reading my thoughts and the tea a potion of exchange.We were up the stairs, beyond the eyelet curtain the color of maples in a room above The Safety Pin Cafe.
The Safety Pin Cafe is Copyright Protection (c), 2012
Yvonne Mokihana Calizar
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