Cliche 22

Autumn tweak.
I felt it in my sleep, putting socks on in the dark
makes me want to be warmer beside another.

I am fan lit, hot water bottled, only September.

I sweep the leaves outside of the florist, each morning into the gutter. Hot chocolate lunchtimes and singing songs on the inside when the clouds call for sympathy.

Today, I am a part empty vessel.
My blood and body sit here, with me, on this hard wooden stool, my fingers tap dance across the keyboard
but I am
somewhere else.

Dying my day a brighter shade,
trying harder.
Loving what is yet to come,
believing

it will
come.

To be taken in arms
instead of socks in the dark
breakfast in bed
and camping in the garden.

Not too long.