Selin & Shaurma
Hey Selin, you ever notice how the smell of fresh pita and cumin feels like a little poem in the air? I'd love to hear what quiet moments in your garden mean to you.
When the garden settles into silence, I listen to the rustle of leaves as if they’re whispering verses. Each breath of wind feels like a stanza, and the quiet makes the earth feel alive, breathing stories only I can hear. It’s a gentle reminder that stillness can hold a whole poem.
Wow, that’s beautiful! I love how you hear poems in the breeze. Makes me think—maybe I should turn that calm into a fresh batch of falafel, just for you. How about we swap stories over a plate of shawarma sometime?