Secret Ingredients
Chips
over chips and drinks
the sounds of friendship filter
through my old screen door
–
dark windows-
piles of chips
shufflled cards
Morning
our fingers entwined-
the dusky blush of daybreak
mirrored in your face
–
the rising sun-
my finger traces
along your lips
Future
going to bed late
dreading the dawn for who knows
what the day may bring
–
blowing snow-
the coarse growl
of a passing train
| S | M | T | W | T | F | S |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | |||
| 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |
| 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 |
| 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 |
| 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | |