I feel like it has been raining for years.
And I will wake up tomorrow, webbed and gilled, a green-skinned lily-pad.
My eyes slick sliver, like salmon skin.
I sit here, watching the skies melt, with a kitten wrapped around herself. She is unaware of this other wet world; this place without food, without fires; warm beds, and sleepy heads.
Myself, well, I am drawn to the grey.
The strange semi-stillness of a night drawing near.
Mischief realized.
Heartbreak thwarted.
Coming home with a grocery bag filled with potential.
Potential?
Or adventure?
Mugs of piping chai, thick woolen blankets, and the tap, tapping of a lost-lover’s knock on my window panes.
The SOS of ten thousand teardrops.
And I see the lights across the river, blinking.
Like an old man, lost in thought.
Rant and Roll 
Beautiful. It makes me want to cuddle in a blanket around your fire and chat about travel over a hot cup of chai… :)
Beautiful – need a book, a fire and a glass of vino – Happy Friday – Happy Weekend:)
I hope so very much that this was in your cards over the weekend! x
it can’t be said that your writing abilities are 1-dye-mentional. when you kwit whatever job you have, and go full-time into “special (other) projects/pursuits” — you’ll add the POETRY READINGS to the mix.
Why thank you kind sir! I will be sure to definitely slot them in. :)
I love you your words.
I love you too sister. x
What nice thoughts to be lost in! Love!
Meep! Thanks! x