one day

One day he was there, finally. Orange hair, hungry. The sweetest day. Others came, that day and others, to others. They keep coming and then one day they are men and they are magnificent, these men we made. But who wouldn’t trade this one day for the other—just for one day?

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s