She was a different kind of woman - she had a universe inside of her. A cluster of habits and nuances that no one else could match; she gathered tones and mannerisms like a spiderweb gathers dinner. In time, all things were absorbed into her. He could hardly tell the difference between the glow of her skin and the soft velvety light of twilight.
The lilacs clamped in his fist cast a delicate fragrance into the air.
His heart seized in his chest, nearly bringing him to his knees. How much of his life could be disassembled by poppy seeds?