The sunset strings its rosary in beads of strawberry and mother's love as the day comes to an end. The light lays and prays.
When you miss something, you think of the small, fleeting moments that you gave no attention to before. You start to think of the way she pronounced things, tongue smooth over teeth and so unlike you. You think of the way her eyes moved when she laughed, the way she touched your shoulder gently when she looked at you, blue eyes and butterfly pink lips.
I wonder what it will take to pry me away from you. I wonder how much will ever be too much. What weight will stop my heart from giving anymore?
I saw the way you moved over the kitchen floor, your small feet gliding on the tile, dancing to your own humming. The sun was stinging my eyes, trying to count her days and count her blessings.
It felt like God almost cared about me again.
But God doesn't care about me.
He doesn't care what you like.
He doesn't even care.
And if all good things must come to an end, then let me just say amen to everything that makes you you. Amen to the smallest of moments and the tiniest of hints that someday, the sun would burn out.