Our crisscrossing lives weave around wreaking havoc on the plans I had for the future. You blast through all the stop signs and red lights of my drafted existence and I hold on for dear life, laughing with the top down.
It reaches out above me as far as my mind will go.Sheltering me from heavy lead shavings of moonlight. And tinting the world with turquoise sunlight by day, it turns my life into a fish tank with colours that bleed.
I hate doing it. I know you do too. It’s all ballet and gymnastics. A mental and verbal choreography that sometimes never goes according to plan. And in the moment before the curtain drops you wait with bated breath for the answer.
It’s old and musty in her closet. I see furs from a long time ago that end in fox heads and sparkly memories. I know that one day they will be mine and I can’t wait. It the same with the tiny teacups in the kitchen. The ones with the floral design