small stone #11
It’s a cold bench,
and your skin is dry.
You’re smoking menthols,
I haven’t seen those in a while.
I want to reach out and hug you,
and buy you shiny new warm coat and lots of groceries, the kind that
Are like delicious and junky and perfect!
I don’t know you but I love you more than you can fathom.
But.
Instead I gotta sit here,
and just Be.