Poem by Marianthi for Kirsten about Pepperay…

It was winter and my toes
were promising to cave
under the miserable mood
of December.

I walked into the house.
Letting out a shriek as my
toes crumbled under the
volcanic giggles of the downstairs
I could already imagine my sighs
of exhaustion
being sucked into their need
for extra oxygen to finish
the surplus of sentences
that now reigned in the house.
As the once singular need to talk about,
“Important issues” doubled.
An understanding that
no conclusion of what golfer was cutest
would ever be reached
Because one always finished
the other’s sentences.

I held my breath,
and walked up to my room.

~Guest Post