folding
yesterday's
clean laundry.
shaping a
perimeter of
piles around
me sitting,
legs crossed
and slightly
slouching.
the voice of
a male siren
croons to
slow acoustic
tones playing
from one
side of my
damaged
headphones,
along with
πππ static
voice.
02.11.21
it's a tuesday evening at 5:45pm and i think i can be happy.
this is becoming an unfamiliar pattern.