i feel so at ease with a book
balancing on my head, testing
my posture, while skimming
a toe across your floor.

less at ease while waiting
in the brazen wind, for
a chariot that takes me
in search of colours.
interior decorator
dreams.

"i want red for the door
but no, the brick! it will
not do. blue could be rather pretty
with gold detailing, but is it auspicious?
oh! have you seen the result
of this render? it seems
illusory."

& now am a tired wretch. who
cares not for colour schemes or
provencal bathrooms when i
have ended the long day!
having looked a beast in
the eye i will now drink
asian tea & will read
anna karenina in
fresh clean sheets.

for this moment, i am content
maybe made so by this fatigue
but it seems prettier than
a blue door, a red door.