If Tuesday was a color

Writing in metaphors

Illustration

Past the realm of reality, a twisting of the rules

Drop a toe from the sky or cut a piece of brick off your house for breakfast

This is when the fun comes

The creativity, child like in its play, requests I toss my birds in the direction of the wind

My shoulders ripple in the breeze

Experiment , I remind myself

I whisper to the doorman to open the faucet and let the rush flush my cheeks

I did not even hear myself ask

Luckily, I’ve been distracted

Too tired for a thought

So, the feeling begins

My brain curling softly into the crook of my neck

“I want to be a writer,” I think

“I know,” I think

Start writing, any words, and the rest is next to come