RACKET

Thirty four missed calls
over
six cups of untouched coffee
and
I read the words out loud,
ignoring the brutal echo of their sound.
My hair is up
and my knees are pressed hard
against some foreign tunes in the room,
leaving me content and so peacefully happy.
I smile
as non-existing pollen makes me sneeze
eight times in a row,
reminding me that you are reading this
with me. Together.
And I enjoy
the racket of our hearts. Beating.

– Chatty Owl –

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