A pale, blonde woman in pink scrubs first asks my name and birthday. She has an accent that sounds Scandinavian, and she looks past the tears in my eyes as I answer her questions. She leads me down ... [+]
Fresh chocolate chip cookies that you didn’t bake
Tulle and Wool and Velvet as your hand grazes bolt after bolt
Garage door clank-sweating to open again
Zingy pineapple juice drizzling down you neck
Streetlights-snow, ashy embers floating
Orange peels curling under fingertips
Ice skates melting through the waxy untouched rink.
Plates of butter-brickle snapping tween your teeth
Yellow mug of chocolate, steam expanding your soul
An unlit candle’s wick
Thick copper ring reflecting green-gold eyes
Black waves of hair gently sift through a tight-knit comb
Cursive wrapping your name into a bow
Little things worth living for
Tulle and Wool and Velvet as your hand grazes bolt after bolt
Garage door clank-sweating to open again
Zingy pineapple juice drizzling down you neck
Streetlights-snow, ashy embers floating
Orange peels curling under fingertips
Ice skates melting through the waxy untouched rink.
Plates of butter-brickle snapping tween your teeth
Yellow mug of chocolate, steam expanding your soul
An unlit candle’s wick
Thick copper ring reflecting green-gold eyes
Black waves of hair gently sift through a tight-knit comb
Cursive wrapping your name into a bow
Little things worth living for