MelloRocks

I watch you cutting strawberries in the amber afternoon, sun on its midway to autumn; you won't let me help because secretly only half of them make it to the bowl. I smile back at your playful eyes because you know.   It feels like an old August, in my stomach some sort of sadness some sort of joy. Last night's thunderstorm has left the ocean agitated, wildly beautiful. Life is nothing but a vacant place, today and we shall let it be, let the world wait for us, today. Cross legged on my piano bench, I play for the cat a winter Debussy she's happy, I could tell she smiles.

Aphrodite's hair. Helen's face. Adam's apple.