dark red tulips, a blue kitchen
from the living
room a guitar strums
chording, the crackle
of a page being turned
a tub of frozen chicken curry
defrosts on the counter
an entire hour tradedÂ
for light
from the living
room a guitar strums
chording, the crackle
of a page being turned
a tub of frozen chicken curry
defrosts on the counter
an entire hour tradedÂ
for light
I wish I could write like this.
1That’s how it started for me– a longing to write like someone else. ~__~
2You can do it too….