I can’t say I’m one for a rainy Tuesday. There”s the smell of coffee and the sound of drums in the distance. I can see shreds of the long winter resting on the ground.
I can remember your run down little kitchen, when snow fell and the radio hummed a warm heatless sound. Electricity that pulsed in winter, and we danced and the faucet leaked and I was content.
Days like today remind me of you, though I can’t quite remember why. Maybe it was all the hurt on both sides, yet I felt nothing but the October air blow in through my open window.
But that was years ago, and I still can’t remember why.