if you don't mind me asking,
what are you doing home
on a Saturday night?
Mother believes I've got
Chikungunya fever,
I've been forced to
lemon tea and blankets.
I don't tell her my heart aches.
She can't keep secrets.
If we lived across from each other,
if I had a flashlight,
if you could read Morse code,
would you find a way
to take me out
for beer and jokes?
(For the stranger out there, peeking into my soul lots of times throughout the day.)
(PS.: I don't drink.)
To be alone with aching heart beer and jokes is a better cure than tea... Love this.
ReplyDeleteThe middle stanza really caught me, Kenia. Beautiful writing.
ReplyDelete