brooklyn
i stared at the wrinkled notebook paper
laying on my wooden floor, in front
of my front door.
my body was frozen and i couldn't move,
as if my socks were super glued in place.
the longer i stared the more i assumed
it could fly into thin air and hover in
front of my face.
forcing my legs to move
i tip toed towards the piece of scratch
paper and bent down beside it.
grabbing the paper,
i sat indian style on the floor and
leaned back against the wall
reading the chicken scratch in
blank ink.
we need to talk
even if you have nothing to say.
the least you can do is listen.
you know where to meet
when the hour hand lands
on twelve.
l x
YOU ARE READING
maybe, someday
Romance❝Perhaps we'll meet again when we're better for each other.❞ © tilmorning. The fourth and final installment, following the stories: 'something' , 'where we fell' , and 'intoxicated'.
