I was looking for a poem
but you offered cigarettes. They were better.
You explained something about death or dying or some sort of shabu paraphernalia or cat food,
I won’t recall anything, coz he was looking at me and I can’t say no.
We don’t say much these days, do we?
There was a discussion about putting up a business in El Nido.
What else can we trick them with? Yes,
anything. When writers start talking about money and stability on a Monday evening in Sarah’s,
it touches too much imahen.
I was about to sing
after catching some keywords bloated by the help of herbs,
but you confessed something while she was on the bathroom. It wasn’t important,
but I listened almost too hard.
(Images from @archillect)