April 30, 2017 § Leave a comment
The joys of Sunday are like Wednesday for some. Monday for others. The joy of Sunday.
Every other day’s the same. Sun up moon down. Arguments and loving words none. Or some days words again: one and arguments are none. The joys of Sunday.
Is it the coolness of the evening or the sweating Tuesdays as the dew builds between your legs? The joy of Sunday’s all the same to Thursday or Saturday. The joys of Sunday stays the same.
Tamarind, strawberries or coconut milk sweet. Plastic wrappers and the thin thin wood stick. The joys of Sunday.