ArchiveJune 2014

  Our conversations always start the same way: “Are you happy?” Your lips peel back and reveal a smile, a smile so big it could be filling a void. And it is. There is such a stir in my stomach when we speak. Casual conversation plants a patch of dandelions in my stomach, and although nerves settle in like bumble bees, I smirk at the fact it’s a garden. On good days, roses squeeze in between...

YOU greet me with coffee this morning: cream and two sugars (just the way I like). I think YOU did this on purpose, but I hate questioning nice things. Before I left last night, we fought again. It was my fault though. Or was it yours? YOU confronted me with your desk-reception lungs that heaved like a dusty accordion, so I took the blame. It was getting late, almost midnight to be exact, and I...