Mar 2019
A blue morning on the 46a to Stillorgan.
I get emotional gliding past the little orange town house. I've passed it every day for two years but this time it feels different.
I can smell your walls and furniture.
Can taste the breakfast you'd surprise me with after a long night of dancing and love making.
Can feel your head on my shoulder as you hold me at the kitchen counter.
You kiss my stomach.
On our last morning, you had driven me to college. Me, eating nutella and banana toast and you watching the roads too carefully. You had just gotten your license. Fionn Regan played softly.
I get emotional gliding past the little orange town house. I've passed it every day for two years but this time it feels different.
I can smell your walls and furniture.
Can taste the breakfast you'd surprise me with after a long night of dancing and love making.
Can feel your head on my shoulder as you hold me at the kitchen counter.
You kiss my stomach.
On our last morning, you had driven me to college. Me, eating nutella and banana toast and you watching the roads too carefully. You had just gotten your license. Fionn Regan played softly.
