when the nights get chilly when the rains begin autumn loneliness kicks in
the skin triumphs when in a flash all clothes vanish – in summer private balconies are priceless
I asked for help but didn’t know I had such “busy”, “busy” friends
he will stare every time till my cheeks start burning, but if I cast a look away from me he’s turning
all week long I struggle to wake up even late, on weekends – could I be your village rooster, please?