The boy in the supermarket asked if my tattoos kept my arms warm.
Yes.
I’ll get one when I get home.
His mother blushed and pulled him away.
Goodbye.
May your dreams
May the colour of your dreams be golden
May their taste be softest honey
Turn
I feel the autumn breeze
on my heart.
It slows me.
But your spring
is budding
is beckoning to shine.
The world turns.
Lives turn.
Your turn.
September plums
In summer
red gold plum skins are paper thin.
They split when touched.
Later
you nip thick black September skin
with your teeth
suck out green flesh
and with skill
and luck
leave the stone inside.
Hangover cure
Salt strength
Honey kisses
Sleep in slanting morning sunshine.
Or so I’ve heard.
I don’t get hangovers.
Don’t wipe
Don’t wipe the condensation away from inside the bus windows. That’s where the fog lives when the sun comes out.
Time, time itself
Puny mortal! You wish to change the very parameters of Time itself? There are things in this version of your multiverse that your feeble brain could never comprehend! Time is never ending, no beginning, no finality. You cannot change the course of Time. You are no Dark Lord.
[sigh] So shall I try turning the desktop on and off again?
Yes, try that, and if that doesn’t work, just pop in a support request. Have a good day!
Morning sunlight
His eyes flickered and opened. Her eyes flickered shut. Her lips curved slightly. He settled his head on the pillow again. Morning sunlight.
Paper (paragraph 1)
Joe’s new editor tapped the lump of glass on his desk, his he-thought clever way of saying the paper could not wait. Suddenly he threw it against the wall by Joe’s shoulder, where it cracked and crashed and smashed into pieces, spilling out its soon-dulled corals. He looked at Joe’s face, the glass on the floor then leaned down and took an identical paperweight out of his drawer. It would be a long night.
Awake
Again the dreamenders arrived too soon, too early. Shapes faded through dark to a different sharpness. I’ll believe in this one now.
simonsalento 