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?

Maybe.

Just maybe.

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