Breakfast, lunch and love in bed.
The sky over slate rooftops slops it's bucket down.
Clumsy day- we clear a space for elegance inside.
Cat man is at my feet, china clacks in the kitchen down the stairs, lips peel slightly,
She makes a promise to him- she will never mix wine, cider, beer, whiskey and vodka together
ever
again.
Those fizzy white discs help- thank you for finding her some. She gingerly sips, with a head so full of rocks she can hardly lift
her eyes.
Where is the country going?
Can I help people with eating disorders?
When will the back stabbing s t o p ?
I hold hope
like two scoops of ice cream
in a waffle cone.
It's a windy day, but it's ours
just the same.
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