unloved, she
comes to the door,
in her robe
and slippers.
she has an
empty cup in
her long slender
hand. what, i ask,
what is it
this time.
sugar, salt,
olive oil again?
and she says.
i don't know.
i'm not sure what
i need this
time. what
do you have
that i want.
i don't know
either, i tell
her, but come in,
come in, let's
look around
and see.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment