நக பூச்சு

you ask my opinion on your new nail polish. you describe in vivid, sorrow-tinged detail how a pigeon fell with a broken wing. you send photos of your favourite dog until the screen struggles to load. you ask me what kind of bag, what colour bag to buy. you ask if this is what a poem you once read meant. do you have a thousand things to say to me? or does the universe create a thousand things just so you can say them? keep talking — until i forget that i have nothing to say. — haka