Wednesday, October 6, 2010


i have cream and mushroom pasta,
and the weather is a part of my imagination
and depends on what i feel like wearing.
i have a sunny balcony with plants
and cane sofas with lime green cushions
and a peaceful looking buddha in the corner,
to keep me company as i read.
i'm waking up not too late, but not early
and i can feel the sun on my face,
and walk into a bathroom
that smells of potpurri and pomegranate shampoo.
is a vague recollection
that swirls away with work and backaches
into a big glass of iced tea.
but somehow,
you don't swirl down as well
and i cant help
wishing you were here.

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