Often my heart
gets tired of me and comes down,
down an invisible ladder of clouds
and starts walking aimlessly
across the compacted earth of the patio,
I look at it through
the kitchen window
and I wonder what it is thinking about
where its mule memory is,
its babbling of ash,
I leave it because there is no point in calling it,
it comes back at night and when I wake up
I caress it as if it were
the head of a bird.
How do you rate this article?
3
A veces leo.
Magician
Reward the author with $0.01 in crypto, and earn yourself as you read!
% to author / 80% to me.
8 hours ago
3 minute read
1 hour ago
1 minute read
17 hours ago
3 minute read
Page not displaying correctly?
