Sunday, April 29, 2012

Hot Black Tea

English breakfast tea past midnite. Why do I love this. This is my bliss. Mind soaring with streaming poetic thoughts. Why keep them bottled up. These streams dont give up. Warm body, I feel the heater on. I'd like to believe that in this very moment. This body of mine is a treasure. Treasure chest with many things hidden away, but don't guess. Hot Black Tea. Keeping me from lovely dreams. Past midnite. I could be sleeping tight. A deeeeep breath. a Cat snoring. A little music. What should I be saying. That it's too late to be playing. ahhhhhhh