The nightsounds at your house are so soothing, and so are the sheets.
When I am ninety I want to be as good as him, with some hope and a sense of humor but also great sadness.
I want to let fish nibble my toes forever and lay on green grass but far away from everyone, mostly.
Sometimes, but not often, I get a chill through myself, and I feel like I won’t warm up for a long while. It started yesterday, I think.
If there was something I could do to make things better, I would most certainly, but I’m afraid there’s nothing.
