to: love that soothes

31

it's friday. it's friday morning, pretty little friday, if days can be measured at all. i walk half-awake, like a leaf floating mid-air, too scared to touch the ground, moreover the sky.

i stop while walking halfway down the stairs in the train station.

it's friday morning. it's pretty, sunny and windy friday.

it's the last day of the week. but i want to head back and forget that i ever tried.

let's forget it. let's forget everything. eventhough it's friday.

out of the blue--and red and yellow--i see you. i remember you. whichever comes first.

you are cooking with your friends. you can't cook. nor your friends. you look like you have so much fun. you haven't met your friends for so many months, for so many days.

you mess it up. your friends, too. but you all eat it anyway, along with the funny faces, with the funny remarks.

i smile a little. maybe i should continue walking down the stairs.

you crumple the recipe's paper, and put it in your mouth.

i laugh, while walking down the stairs.

it's friday. it's the last day of the week.

it's friday, friday morning, pretty friday with a little bit of wrong colors;

but you silly big boy, i love you.