Sunday

I dip my foot in boredom and feel its presence.
Now my body under the blanket melting in its warmth.
And then emptiness and a craving for something to happen,
but I'm unwilling to move.
I'm drowning by now in thoughts of things to come, what to do,
where to go, who to phone, how much time do I have?
Restlessness and frustration kick in.
I feel my heart announcing my body's dissatisfaction.

I breathe in the silence and tell myself it's all right to be like this.
Undriven, passive, free of duties. 
Just feeding off whiteness of the wall.