Sun is out.
Toes are dangling.
Double bass is giving birth.
It’s a boy!
Sax needs some love.
The balcony is a size too small to fit our adventures.
He curls his beard into a secret.
We sit, wonder if the other will ask about the sound around his bed.
Why are there no curtains?
Why won’t you hide the universe?
He pulls another breath and says he’s not alone.