The soul has no skin; the soul only has insides that want to sing, finally, can’t you hear it, brothers? Softly, can’t you hear it, brothers? A hot piece of ass and a new Cadillac ain’t going to solve a god-damned thing.

Charles Bukowski

I searched for a quotation about the full body pleasure of a hot drink on a cold night, but only found randy-leaning collections on the virtues of bodies exuding a heat not found in the sun. Sigh. So only the photos and a wish for the right words to come. Happy Thursday!

Forever is composed of nows.

Emily Dickinson