Carpet or red socks? New earrings or hemlock?
A new year brings new business ventures — peut-être.
Will the year of the sheep be kind towards this monkey-tail-cock-head?
For in the lunar calendar of my birth, it was still the year of the monkey, but barely.
The rooster had cracked open its shell and was ready to pounce.
Eventually, reality will seem to be the same as (day)dreaming. I will sit on a wooden chair, a cup of coffee to warm my hands, and consider the relevance of “magenta” instead of “red-violet.” My phone will chirp like a crow playing the piano, and it will bring me good tidings. Then, the girl that has always lurked behind me, will step out from behind a wooden pillar, and wrap her arms around me. She will whisper like the man who listens closely and infuse my corporeality with secrets warmer than honey.