Meghan E. Stacy - Brisas Maravillas lyrics

When the kitchen window is ajar, in the early hours of a May morning, the mandarin spirits return. The seasonal breeze wafts the warmth and covenant of adolescent privilege in tendrils encircling my bare arms. They are beginning to soften like peaches. The most beautiful part of a woman's body, blocking the setting summer sun, is the corona blazing from her pliant, blond arm, after a season of salvation. The tang of oranges drifting purposefully into my nostrils reminds me of this yet one more year, as if the notion were pungently and outrageously new.