when you say, you will not be able to carry me next year, when I'll be seven years old. or, when you get up really late in the morning and find everyone else awake and say, Oh I must have seen a long dream. I ask, what was your dream. You say, I forgot, but I got up so late, it must have been long.
how you love patterns, "patturms," as you call it. spots, stripes, dots, lines, waves, squiggles, and, oh so many colours. thought I'd make a little note, lest I forget in the hullabaloo of life carrying me forward, leaving me with little time to look back and reminisce.