there isn't much to imagine when it comes to days full of shrieking in the distance. hearing don't trip, you'll taste green in the knees. sometimes you wake up glad that it was, again, just sleep and not a curry eating god disdained at your sight. some days the morning chooses you, and it's is alright to catch arwanas. you know this by heart. if you're lucky you get notes tucked under an elbow. scrawls. you are pretty, i cannot wait to crawl inside. the sun goes down before you decide to give in, most days. something about the transition leaving behind a kind of pricking you'd rather not deal with. so you pass before it could first. everything else beyond is a memory not yours. would you like to spend a day together? see if you'd stay behind, too