The sky is clear.
The first good thing, it’s always the same.
We sit, you talk, I stare.
Our dreams and memories, all shared.
It never changes.

The sky is grey, today.
Overcast, windy, a little bit of rain.
Your artwork, the drops of ice run through the colours.
Hours spent dreaming lost and pointless.


Yesterday you talked, now you won’t even mumble your pain.
Have I done something?
Our dreams fading like the breath fogged on the window.

How is your day?
I talk, you stare.
Your eyes, bitter sweet chocolate across my tongue.
I am happy.
Look at the sky, blue like a painting.