I cling to the little moments. The little interactions.

Like the time you told me you liked the color of my shoes.

Like the time you told me if you could go anywhere, you'd go to the Colorado mountains.

Like the time you brushed your hand across my shoulder as you passed.

Am I reading into the little moments? Little scatters of time sprinkled on the canvas.  The shades of reds, blues, and yellows.

I barely know you. But I cling to the moments. Because darling, I would love nothing more to get acquainted with your heart.