the first cry
The 2025 cries
It is morning the first after the birth of the new year, the jubilation was tingled with sadness
Outside, the sun shines on our night pale faces
But we feel a certain tristeza the sun shone
Last year to while we busied around doing this and that, only to see we had forgotten to buy butter, and we have to do the dishes piled up
Like a snow drift in the sink
Who will dress and walk to the grocer the little
Shop that never closes, I suggest to use olive oil on toast but is met with horrified silence
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