At dusk as at dawn, the most secret hours of the day, her senses awaken. Colors melt into each other. Time is elusive.
She glides softly, savoring the delicate light. They are always with her: during her morning jog, some afternoon alone-time in her room, a fresh dip in the bluest waters, the quiet spell after a late night out.
They’re hers now and evermore; her secret senses.