The spaces where my words flourish

A crack in the four walls of my cage

Where the sunlight bestows the sight of the newly dewed rooftops


Towers trailing around my seat

An aura of untouched words and portals

To heavens of beauty unsightly


Blank beige walls of scratch and dust

Erasing illusions of unconquerable ticking clocks


Piles of crumpled paper soaked in ink

Burning with the cracking stones

Of misfitted thoughts and places and people


A lavender door recoated and old

A key to conversations and breakfasts cold


A dream of open spaces and unfamiliar faces

Shuffling, howling, and fading like moonsoon storms

Where I wander lost against moment conversations


The entire world as it is shifted and walled

By the cravings in my temporary typing seats

For this ebook prompt:

A genie has granted your wish to build your perfect space for reading and writing. What’s it like?

Of course, I would wish for a mansion of books with comfortable seats, many tables, and a big window to see the shifting tapestry of the sky. Also a great garden where the breath of flowers refresh my mind as I read and write.

However, I just decided to go with realism: the perfect place is any place where you can comfortably read and write.


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