There are days

There are days
When we can see
the sunlight
 hitting the terracotta brickwork
There are days
when we smell
stale cigerettes
honey and lemon
and yesterday's tea
There are days
where we need not speak,
Sandpaper silence
says everything
you really mean
There are days
Where my head
loses it's self
in a plethora
of want

There are days
when I feel
nothing

And days

When I pray
For more days.