morning poem
being with people doing things you love can be the happiest time and its easy
its easy like how you can give a guy a heart attack by walking outside your door
small removable spaces are enjoyed for their ability to be easily replaced
and their pleasures are tiny soups, 24 hour takeaway and hot paper cups
your small space is a cold balcony where your voice is steam and the tv noise travels there from inside and you are laughing. laughing with the unfamiliar voices of the television. feeling a comfort like someone made a fire deep in the pit of you
the small streets have more than everything
sweet shops
liquor shops
shops that sell roast almonds and dried fish in the same bag
the sound of the fridge next to a bed is tinkling like a bird
the fridges in the grocery store make sense only through extreme concentration
the price of a rich malt six pack being small and waving at you from across the aisle
and maybe you gave up sugar and maybe now you don’t care
let’s share meals alone together on Fridays
i miss you when you are gliding down a mountain
i miss you and you are silent in the trees somewhere
i miss you when you are so quiet and I am pretending to be quiet so you will miss me too
emmie rae is a writer from sydney, australia
thebohemyth.com 