And here's one on its way to bed...
Tangles…
There is a special name for it, I’m sure, but I can’t think what it is. So I will call it after midnight, wherever I am; tangled up again in all this wine that flows so perfectly from your heart to mine.
A scary woman will inhabit your dreams very soon.
Hang on a minute, what scary woman?
You will know her by what she wears, and how she sees you, momentarily as she passes by. Oh, and by her scent.
Is this all you can tell me?
Are you at the centre of your circle, or have you slipped out of it?
I don’t know, but I think we must hurry up now, for I’ve a date at nine.
Honey, you won’t find romance out there, it’s in here, or nowhere at all.
That’s confounding.
Well, you know, that in all of the broken down conductors saying their prayers, there is always one who is crying, something.
Conductors of what, may I ask?
Conductors of their misery machines of course.
I’m moving to Florida soon you know.
You don’t say…
Yeah, I got some misery time coming through.
Send me a postcard then.
Just a postcard?
Well, anything at all really, I don’t mind.
I think the wine’s run out.
Time for bed then….
Image from Pixabay
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