Long, weary drops of water are falling outside
Through the bird droppings on my window I notice how the almost almost dead and done grass is leaning slightly to the right.
I shouldn't have time to notice this.
I should be running out the door
But I'm lacking something to run towards
So I'm sitting at the kitchen table, holding a overglamorized clay ***
Trying to fight of all the blue and the grey in the world
I close my eyes and observe my the darkness under my eyelids
The pleasure is greater when all the other senses are shut down
Only then does your full and round Earl Gray flavour truly come to life
Creating a frozen timeslot
To explore the universe under my batting eyelashes
You stand out like the North star tempting me to come along
Even if your moral compass point South instead of North
Surrounded by the constellations of my past,
A moment of seperation from the outside world
That slowly slips away, while you slip down my throat, down to my heart
Making sure a little bit of heat reached it today again.
While tearing me back to reality
Despite all the best things
The kitchen watch starring at me threathingly
Now I actually do have to run out the door
(my goal can always be to find a goal)
that let's the bitter cold inside
whose hinges squirm
While you just stand there like an autumn leaf on my kitchen table.