Blue Like the Sea
The poet had wasted his night while others were sleeping. “Get up,” he demanded, tapping me on the back of the head. “You disappeared again.” I’m wishing for a happy end: blue like the colours of the sea.
21 October 2024
The poet had wasted his night while others were sleeping. “Get up,” he demanded, tapping me on the back of the head. “You disappeared again.” I’m wishing for a happy end: blue like the colours of the sea.
21 October 2024