The Sun, that early Westerner,
Arises while I drink my white coffee
In a fun Monday morning.
There is no traffic in the highway.
There is no one at the office.
There is no work to do.
So I wander by the aisles
Without thinking
How to tell you
That I don’t love you anymore.
Written after the prompt of the day of NaPoWriMo.
El bachiller Sialer 