Past Santorini. Past Mykonos.
An uninhabited island, slightly wild.
I met her there, a human goddess with olive skin and golden hair spilling over her flowing, gauzy caftan. She showed me how to dance along the Aegean Sea. We drank ouzo until the sun was a pink smudge on the horizon.
Try the Corfu. Some say it smells slightly of seawater, and if you’re really listening, you might even be able to hear the call of the Aegean seabirds.
Long line cotton blend with a punch of vibrant pink and citrine.