Tag: writing
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Frost On the Window
Frost on the window isn’t weather,it’s handwriting.Someone, something,scribbling messages in a languageyour breath almost understands. The patterns aren’t patterns.They’re maps.Blueprints.Veins of a creaturethat only exists when the temperature dropsand forgets itself when the sun returns. Sometimes the frost looks like branches,but the trees outside swearthey’ve never grown that way.Sometimes it looks like feathers,but no bird…
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A Sorry Habit
I say sorry for the weather, sorry for my shoes, sorry for the way silence sits heavy between us.My mouth is a coin purse and the word jingles out whenever the room tilts a degree I don’t like.I apologise like a habit. I apologise for walking into a room with too much thought, for folding…