Pinocchio’s Strings

“Lies, my dear boy, can easily be recognized. There are two kinds of them: those with short legs, and those with long noses.” – Carlo Collodi, Pinocchio

Much Too Short & Far Too Bittersweet

All I ask is that you remember our beginning. Don’t remember the ending. Stories that don’t end in happily ever after are always better read on the first page.

Infinities

Somewhere, out there, exists another universe that tells a better story of you and me. We are together. We rent a townhouse in Georgetown, one made of bricks and a cherry wine door. We drink birthday cake milkshakes out of mason jars in the summer, and take midnight walks on the first snow of winter. Life is warm and familiar.

Just A Dream

We went to a charming café last night. The evening was fraught with fireflies and indigo stars. We sat beneath an ivory awning laced with velvety moss. Ordered two cappuccinos – the barista shaped the milk so a heart cascaded over our espresso. He must have known we are in love.

Swinging Stars

“I like the stars. It is the illusion of permanence, I think. They’re always flaring up and caving in and going out. But from here, I can pretend – I can pretend things last. I can pretend that lives last longer than moments. Gods come, and gods go. Mortals flicker and flash and fade. Worlds don’t last, and stars and galaxies are transient, fleeting things that twinkle like fireflies and vanish into cold and dust. But I can pretend…”