remember getting her that toy, no, but this is it— parent-y specs.
haiku
Curtain back, now lights, some explosions distant– hit with new sirens, sprints.
But me, only the Still excuse-word lazy bloke. Promising more, but…
There’s an ocean right there. I think it wants me. But for what? Just swim, swim…
People with their time, schedules and routines, kept, clean, till life happens, walk–
A new newness, a direction that will get me lost–chuckling compass.
The kitchen to get another glass of that Zin– But bed beckons, open.
Talk much, nothing do. And now look, results pounced in. Much now to say, face–
Images distanced become near, proximal, key push, steps quiet, hold–
In a feverish way. Dream of Spain’s sand. Unplanned obsession to place.