the window open
the cold air
but I don’t feel
I considered you.
You, not someone I would allow thoughts to linger on, inexplicably took up space in my mind.
The virtue of curiosity compelled my thoughts to trace the contours of our conversations.
Words artfully selected like a fine merlot were freely exchanged.
Too late did I realize that wine held no value for you.
He had a strong nose.
The kind of nose that would sit pristinely on the face of some noble prince: strong and defined and important. When he spoke, it was as if all of the importance of the world was in the way he seamlessly blended words. Words that were not selected carelessly, though, but chosen with deliberate and intentional care as a builder would select choice lumber — smooth and intricate and faultless.
But even wood begins to crack.
the girl with the too-small hands
and the too-small shoes
carried around a too-big heart
that cried for everyone
laughed with everyone
and loved everyone
— The End —