January 12, 2004

7:02 p.m.

Blossom

I want to be a jasmine flower. I want to be picked in the dark of night when I'm at my most fragrant, in a New Orleans courtyard where jazz meets jambalaya. I want to ride down Bourbon Street in a dark-skinned woman's cleavage and feel her heart beating as she anticipates what will happen later with the man walking next to her, his hand entwined in hers.