the night is alive with the sound of thunder. raindrops scatter over the front porch and trample on the lawn and flowerbeds. this is the pre-monsoon rain. the first showers that make a lot of noise and spray a little and bring along cool cool breeze.
the dogs are noisy tonight. am tucked between the sheets, tap-dancing on the keyboard, while the sharp wind laps on my bare shoulders.
there is nothing as precious as your space-- a place for yourself to be, to do things or to undo them. there's nothing as reliable as silent walls, that never judge you or accuse you of not being.
i murmur gratitude for 'a room of my own'. independence begins with having your own space and your say.
the dogs are noisy tonight. am tucked between the sheets, tap-dancing on the keyboard, while the sharp wind laps on my bare shoulders.
there is nothing as precious as your space-- a place for yourself to be, to do things or to undo them. there's nothing as reliable as silent walls, that never judge you or accuse you of not being.
i murmur gratitude for 'a room of my own'. independence begins with having your own space and your say.
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