Interruptions. They’re everywhere
Their little potholes in the road.
But some of them are bigger than others.
Coffee. Hot Coffee.
Little burns disturb the hands and bother
Warm rays of delirium smile and fog up the path of tuition
Skin warm skin
Arms touch arms
A smile spreads across his face like warm butter
Interruptions swim in the dark at the bottom of the swampy pool
And grasps the ankles unexpectedly
Pulled down into pills of despair whilst others take them in desperation
Yellow spilled across her face   
But what would everyone else wear?
Afterall, yellow is the happiest of them all
Roots twist down the throat
Growing and kissing the lungs until they can’t breathe
It was like an orchard.