Mountain of things.

I found you in the mornings
through my big hot coffee mug
whispering promises of distant lands
-on and on it goes- not very sincere, no it's not.

You know the way it goes about
to follow me you must be clear...
Whether you want to skip some tears
or you want to hide your clouds.

You don't have to sale your wings
Just tell me if in your life
-In your very complicated life-
there's room enough for me and all my stuff.

I'm an artist honey...
I need a shelter big enough
for me, my fish,
and all my mountains of things.

A.