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.
It was freezing this morning, and for whatever reason, it had me thinking about New York. And how it snowed in Central Park, such a brilliant white. I almost fell numerous times, and tree branches sparkled in the morning mist. Up and down the avenues we ventured, our breath dissolving before us. It took everything in me not to start a snowball fight with you – a spontaneous burst, like fallen stars and angel aura quartz. Clusters of flakes beneath Christmas trees of December 26. The paths were carved with flannel footprints and ice kisses. A piano playing softly when you took me into the Trump Building. And we scarfed down turkey burgers and ate so many sweet potato fries. And I couldn’t help but think what a sweet memory this would make someday.
The clouds hung heavy with autumn air this morning. The last summer cherries stifled the air with their crimson blooms. Dimples dipped into the corners of my mouth like dark sea star shadows on the shoreline. I will have to remember this feeling. When life is far harder than it is now. When the spools unravel and the salt settles rather than crystallizes. When gravity levels even the ocean floor. I will inhale the sweet nectar of this morning.