friday 04.08

This early morning, I pretend to sip tea and walk barefoot through the lawn, wetted by a sprinkler but still dry to the core. I smoke a cigarette and watch the sky as the clouds roll in a direction I am not familiar with yet. I light a filter by mistake and the taste is repulsive.

I see no pictures and few stars. I drop my mug and carefully walk back to the chair hoping not to step on any more glass. I massage my leg, first the right and then the left, and wonder if the analogy I have created justifies the physical pain that is keeping me awake. Sleep I say and beg and eventually I will shut my eyes for awhile and rest...the morning birds will sing soon and the thump of the paper will startle me, it always does.