I’m writing stories, I’m not even aware that I’m writing stories.
They’re adding up as if a Picasso collection.
I find them on the back of envelopes.
Or as notes on my smartphone.
Hidden on my bathroom mirror, after a hot shower.
Just a sentence here and there or a stanza of an unfinished poem.
I will always add to my collection.
One day I will put them together for a wonderful story.
just for your eyes and
just for your mind