My out of office is on.
I made it by the skin of my teeth.
Literally.
Yesterday.
The dentist said I just need to relax.
My out of office is on.
I collapse on to the couch.
Literally.
Today.
You got us bubbly and I am too tired to hold the glass.
My out of office is on.
I have no plans for the next three weeks.
Literally.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow I might make art, or snooze, or watch the clouds.
Poetry by Nathalie 