Composed 4/18/16
Description: For Day 17 of NaPoWriMo. Obviously… I’m not yet used to warm weather.
I woke up today to a blinding dream
Even the grass sings sunshine songs
The air is light and pale and fresh
As the outside breathes into the room
My skin feels new as if
Pleasure has just caressed my cheeks
People chatter and birds softly sing
A drowsy, pure reality
I’m numb with the glee, indeed
This must be a dream
Scraps of Paper 