You’ve Come Home

The light outside shielded by fabric, drapes, muted. Soft and gentle inhales. The piano and songs about snow.

A small pink lantern looking better on that stall in Bombay.

Coral harmony creeping effortlessly from technology while they work away, painting, filing, i stay horizontal.

All days are different but flat connects one to the next. Siesta?

Nothing apart from a few clothes, a pottery dalmatian, breath and memories. New ones in the making.

A quiet Friday listening to songs about snow.

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