Feeds

The girl sold jasmine flowers with bright happy smiles, drenching the dry parched corner of the busy street with drizzles of a spring shower. Her sparkling set of uneven teeth with a dimple marked on each dusky cheek, flashed like the peeping sun through a thick wall of dark gray clouds. I often stood watching her as the warmth of her lips extended onto mine, Almost like my warm cup of coffee hugged between cold fingers on a chilly winter morn. My young flower girl, With jasmine flavoured smiles Painted rainbows In melancholic dark skies.