Monday holiday comes bearing gifts, like cats and creatures and slow alarms, in slow life

I wish I was in love.

This music would mean more if I was.

This panic building up with my espresso crema would be more painful.

I would go walking for the search and the pity

I would find pear seeds and everything would be a symbol

because I thought I was in love.

and then I would wake,

bake, or

shake, of freedom

freedom I never wished for in this box.