at one forcing me to climb a hill,
at two preparing me to cope,
at three I was nearly giving in to another will,
at four thought it would be a sin,
at five birds started to sing,
at six realised that it would only be a win,
at seven already an hour on a dreams wing,
at eight still asleep, deep inside
at nine awake, feeling its might,
at ten apart from thoughts, mouth still silent,
at eleven images became violant,
at twelve body searching for something to eat,
at one wished that love and air would be able to feet,
at two thought only of you,
at three going through something blue,
at four hoped it would rather be green,
at five was seen and talked with,
at six felt a bit mean,
at seven tasted your silent kiss,
at eight wished for another dream,
at nine building me a thought, against to lean,
at ten felt very cold,
at eleven longing for a hand to hold,
at midnight awake still, measuring the ocean, that has to be filled, drop by drop.
For further thoughts, found during this Tuesday, please click: here.
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