Last Night
Your smell lingers on my bed, on my pants, on the chair that you sat, on every book that you touched. Everywhere.
Admit it. You come over, leave your scent and left just to break my heart.
Sleep Deprivation Equals To Apple Pie
It crosses my mind (at this wee hour), that when you can't get your eyes close and adrift in a good night dream, images of recipes and good foods always come uninvited. I browsed a website and dang over there were these gorgeous blueberry pie and a chicken pot roast and lemon-lime danishes and the list is further miles ahead. I can't sleep. But my brain is entirely exhausted. I worked until 6 in the morning yesterday and once I opened up my eyes exactly at 12.48 pm today (Tuesday), there were 18 missed calls from the Company. That is not the point. My point is, I can't sleep. And when I did a little rummaging just now in my fridge, I found a bag of apples, a few kiwis, gazilions of portobelo mushrooms, and a box of butthead lettuce. A thorough thinking has been done, and I am planning to mash up all the apples and make some pies. Finding blueberries here, is like digging for a little japalenos in a bunch of cili melaka. They don't have blueberries, but they have a rack ...
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