Pandora’s Ache
This ache
Here you are again
Nesting nerves under my skin
The obvious and throbbing thumb
The growling ghost inside my gut
The drawer left open yesterday
The toppled pile of disarray
The hungry tug away from tasks
The dream today that just distracts
The chair pulled out and left that way
The knick-knack put back out of place
The water boiling down to bare
The scent of scorching in the air
The fitful feeling left ajar
The cold stuffs spoiling where they are
The dust shadow upon the shelf
The empty pang for something else
You reside inside this space
Here you are again
This ache
-a.r.
Painting: Pandora by John William Waterhouse
sometimesihatemycat 
Ah, to be that ache. Smiles.
I ache a lot with feeling alive these days…but oh to beware of that box of curiosities, and what happens when it’s emptied.
Need it ever be. I could unpack you endlessly.
I’m afraid I would be quite boring and banal in the end. But thank you for the sentiment, a nice way to start a day. 🙂
Ah. You’ll never know if you are. Or not.