On this blurry wet morning, before dawn, looking. To the rhythm of a leaking roof.
Through the curtain. A string of holiday lights, still there because I like the blue.
In the low light, fuzzy minded, before coffee. Two large cloths forming.
Maybe, only seconds later...
Collision. A soft kind. Like that which happens when one leans into another. Closing a gap.
And yes. I am considering this.
I'd be talking but in shuffling stuff around I also misplaced my audio recorder.