after recording my podcast.
The TV was on in the background,
playing something episodic/formulaic.
I had music on in another room,
Lou Reed was singing poems.
I was watercoloring in between,
and soaking beans for the weekend.
Between heart and eyes,
I was happy.
I was alive, doing the little things
that prove we exist.
I was alive, doing the little things
that prove we exist.