there is dark chocolate all over the walls
and my soul is covered too.
So is your face, darling, and I wouldn’t know
if it was just a dream again, and it was.
When the morning frolicked all over the curtains,
and I slipped out from under my blanket,
I wanted to say to you how good it is to have dreams.
Instead, I stumbled down the stairs
and thought about you.
That’s all about it, and that’s all there is to it.
I could paint it then, and show them to you
if I was brave enough.
The kitchen looks dim and small.
My coffee is as strong as it needs to be.
InsensuouslyI've played this strange game of making mistakes
and had made more and more.
Like an unfinished painting, I lay on the floor.
The colors are hidden inside of me
The monsoon is grey – seems as if the sun was gone,
but left its heat behind. Slippery roads, and a long drive.
One solstice after another, and it will be summer again.