Sunday, 1 May 2016

Every Cloud.

for example

I want to write this down.

I need to write this down.

I want to remember this late May morning.

The sky is grey.

The temperature, low.

It is cloudy.

So you are wearing a pullover as you walk through the forest.

A cup of coffee in one hand.

A tea in the other.

Under your pullover you are wearing a white cotton nightdress.

Old school.

And big walking boots.

New school.

The light passes through the fabric of the dress.

You climb up onto the bedding, slipping from the boots.

Your toes nails are painted.


Like the lining of the clouds.


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