4 bananas slowly ripen,
East asian book laying open.
Crushed synthetic shapes and constant droning.
Tubs of sprinkles and mellow yellows,
Time slips away with each lone line.
The need to shower and brush and put all aside,
Wait for Sir Sleep to arrive.
Yet here to the side 2 pizzas cry-growing stale and cold,
By the bananas enscibed by an 18 year old.
Lady Gray Twinning lays toppled in blue,
While little laura decides just what to do.
In 41 minutes she’ll wish for something new,
and slip outside to collect some dew of raspberry hue.
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