I love the flow, almost static like and I hope you enjoy it. Please click on the original to comment on this lovely piece.
The cottage was long, settled in the grass with a pleasant grunt Everything fit The whole world compressed And gently shaped
We spent a summer there My room was mint green with rocks everywhere And a mirror in a green frame encrusted with cheap, faded rhinestones. My bed was near the window with copper rocks on the white sill dull hay lines running through their sides And the ceiling sloped down towards the other night The living room was downstairs with big windows looking out to glowing tin roof sea The kitchen cupboards were full of labelled jars We loved cinnamon so much the whole cottage smelt of it No one could decide if the smell was sweet or savoury We weighed everything down with sun warmed rocks That's what rocks are for. Books, paper, plates, doors, and folded up clothes. The books in the house were all unknown thrillers…
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