I’m convinced he would like a quiet wife.
One who would sit on her chair and eat granola and sip carrot juice
wearing a ring on only her wedding finger.
How peaceful to be concerned by nothing more than
juice, dried fruits and nuts, and natural yoghurt!
The mind like a quiet seed in the dark.
How irritating, the small explosion of a green shoot breaking into life.
No. He’d have nothing like that. Just a quiet wife on her chair
eating granola, sipping juice, her lips turning orange.
