It’s the taste of honey that holds together the cookies made from quinoa and hazelnuts with the baste and bind of butter and a hint of vanilla.
It’s in the ambered morning sun, suddenly back, that is gently prying the grip of clouds off the mountainside.
It's in here, because without the sweetened bind what was and cannot be become loosened, elemental. It's this, the sugared alchemy of things undone, the unbeginning.
