Rather a spoonful of British preserve than British reserve?
October 12, 2010 § Leave a comment
Where, oh where?
One of my favourite rhymes as a child was the one about cats, cats sleeping opportunistically, hobo-style, any surface available. Railroad? Not quite. More piano-top, fireless fireplace. Whatever.
And this reminds me of you. You are everywhere, and every place I open my eyes to. You are every passing face on a bus, every ponytailed person I swerve to miss. It’s like you sleep in every corner I peer into. I cannot even dream without bumping into you.
Shall we make it Thursday?