what keeps him going are the small things she pops out from the rabbit hat. invisible hands that tender and deal the truth no one could ever muster before. the traps of daily life are transcending, but her comfort provides a true escape. and not a placebo.
tomorrow night the house will be alone again, when the parents fly back to the jungles of manila. the whispers of summer years come and gone bequeath sleepy nights, voices trapped in worn footsteps and stories kept in memories. someday the house might forget, but as long as there’s a dream silently running through it’s soliloquy, it’s job is complete until the next day.
the drone of wanting, echoes through the walls of bigger dreams. when he dreams. when he’s awake. he needs you, miss kat. he loves you.