Happy Thursday! I wrote you a poem.
It’s called “I Should Be So Lucky” and it goes like this:
I’d like them to build me a lead-lined room
Lightproof, soundproof, kept reasonably cool
In fact, a kind of tomb made just for sleep.
A pillow on the floor where I would lay
Eyes closed, arms folded tight across my chest
While outside all would go on as before
People keeping on and growing old
Until all memory of me had died.
And all that time I’m holed up undisturbed
In dark and dreamless ritual of rest.
No thoughts, no cares, no moods, no tears —
I’d stay there for a thousand years.
For a real poem, by Dorothea Tanning no less, head here.
