Sitting on the balcony waiting for a storm to cross the harbour. The cloud is deep azure, the wind has cooled. We try to pretend we aren't scared. But we want this rain so badly.
We will sit all night, watching.
A pub poem - My chip has fallen to the floor. The bar is crowded. I look down. *Sehnsucht*. A lawless longing for The unattainable. I frown.
19 hours ago