A cake. A Saturday afternoon cake.
Windows in the evening with the sunshine.
There is a thought that goes back three years.
I touch the window with my palm.
Why do I sleep. Why do I breathe.
Because the ocean moves my chest.
“What did you and Sarah do this weekend?”
“We went to the store with the Martins to get Barbeque
for Marks birthday.”
“That sounds nice”
“It was really enjoyable. “
“We saw them yesterday for a small chat”
“So, what did you do this weekend?”
“Oh, I had a long weekend at work. You now training
with the company where we learned to say, that’s nice.“
September 