the smell of
coconut oil and
warm coffee in
the morning,
rustle of the
pages from a
notebook,
sweet minutes
of silence
between the
breaking of your
pink sleep and
checking the time:
love more things
while you can.
yes, today is going
to be as ordinary
as tomorrow. and
maybe the day after
will be the same.
so break a stick
of cinnamon, let it
simmer in your tea.
move your furniture
around,
let yourself be
a little late for work
and love more things
while you can.
while your sink is
hopelessly clogged
and the rainwater seeps
through the walls,
when someone has
been very rude to you,
during the power outage:
look up the words
and sing along to a
favourite song. go out
all by yourself to get
a new toothbrush.
also whole wheat pasta,
fresh tomatoes, garlic,
basil and cheese
for a hot dinner.
bask in the sun
a little more.
make friends with the rain.
laugh when you really want
to laugh.
recognize when you're
anywhere but present —
bring yourself back.
and in the middle of that
and most of all:
love more things
while you can.