Jan 1, 2023
Shine muscat
At twenty seven I lay on the grass with my sky. I listened to music that reminded me of him. I ate my new year's salad and think of the missing piece. Imagining. Day dreaming. My sky's eye that is large blue berries at glance but hoping for a yellow-green like berries. My mother told me to accept things that cannot change. I sat down and looked at the shine muscat on my hand and withdraw all the unnecessary thoughts.
At twenty seven, reading my new book, thinking of him next to my music.
At twenty seven, making a burnt pancakes while thinking about his body.
At twenty seven, realising that the world is perfect with him in it.
At twenty seven, blooming. Because I can live without him.
