I think sometimes possibly,
that you could be my blue sky.
My heart and brain swing their rackets
like it’s the final of the Open.
Searching for answers
for something that cannot be answered,
until it happens.
The breathe of happiness
I sometimes wonder,
when will you stop
hiding beneath the cloak of comedy?
I wish I knew where this was going.
I’m pretty sure the Cheshire does.
He is a frustratingly friendly feline,
that smells like pancakes and ice cream
and who is as elusive as his grin.
I think sometimes, maybe.
I think sometimes, curiously.