Dear Friend (3)

Around Breakfast Time
Since it’s sunny out, I leaned in, opened my laptop, and turned on the sound of rain. Something about this feels like lighting incense before I even sit cross-legged. With the rain sounds on, everything else just quiets down except for the toast. I’m just sitting here, munching slow.

 

 

In the Heat of the Day
Earlier, I squeezed a glass of calamansi juice while my roommate went all in with a pitcher of four seasons. I’m sitting at my study table, swirling the glass, enjoying the soft clicks of the ice cubes inside. It’s a quiet habit that never grows old.

 

 

Another Day Folded into the Dark
Just showered again and let myself stay cold. Is this what being a penguin feels like?

Dear Friend
You always have your notebook.
You’re always writing,
like it’s how you make sense of things.

A doctor of words,
with a well-loved notebook.

I tried it today, writing my day out.
Kinda messed it up, but I liked messing it up.

You’re the writer.
I’m the dabbler.