riceful of belly
a recital of fast, moving grey colours adorning the higher edges of the sky like a sticky tape no longer valid. light blue on occasion meets mixed blue from afar. It happens often.
feelings of pressure, and pressed-ness, pressing in on the roof of the Plough. a solitary bird-like statesman sits awaiting news of another. the stillness is long and claggy.
greyness spills out over its lining, spreading out and dissipating, like a watery soup.
have a cup of tea to cut through the rice that denies the blues from meeting.
gulls penetrate the air with their incessant cries, cutting through the window pane like it didn’t exist.
a riceful of belly. holds down the warmth of roundness. eyes close in on a scene of a resting person thinking. thinking of sleeping.