I once stood upon a gritty cement driveway and hula hooped. Someone was watching a movie inside. Gun shots fired from an emotionless sound speaker. There's a place in my brain waiting for days like that. When I can bust out my multi-colored hula hoop and place my feet upon a driveway as colorless as Dr. Seus's books aren't. When the tiles in our hall kiss my feet with cool breezy lips. When Lollipops flutter through my unkempt thoughts with daffodil wings. When the breeze waltzs with my curtains. A day. A day that's something like hulahoops.
No comments:
Post a Comment