Puppies and kittens, tumble and play

Little bellies, tiny paws, day after day

Butterflies float, in leisure

Paths, they soar and glide.

Books of all kinds, vines on the shelves

In the crevices, the corners - breathes

That they take to keep the Shelves alive

They smell of freesia, roses, and honey

Suckle, bees suckling on pollen,

No fear of a sting anywhere.

If you walk down the path, a little

...

“So, ahem, this is it huh?”

“Yep”

She shifted her weight from one foot to another. The inside of her mouth was starting to get a bit raw from where she chewed it.

“Well, you know, good luck. I mean, I- I have a lot to do here anyway so.”

“Sure. Of course you do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Silence. His hands are paused on the suitcase. Like they are waiting for more.

“There’s plen...

Your feet drag themselves. They are mechanical motions creaking toward a destination.

But it’s not their job to think of where to go.

Your brain “remembers” in the way you remember to breathe. To chew. To blink.

Your heart is steady. Appreciating a warm shower comes from this organ.

After dinner, and a shower, your eyes start to drift in front of the tv. You’ve turned it down to the lowest vol...

Dad used to love the rain. I thought to myself as I waited for the bus, my butterfly rainboots pinching my big and middle toes.

I checked my watch. Three more minutes to go. This bus was usually on time, but then again the rain might slow it down. There was a short Hispanic lady with her young son on the other side of the bus stop. He had a coat on, but she didn’t. It made me smile to look at th...

Sometimes, you have to treat people with a long handled spoon

But no one ever said how long

What is “long” compared to “short”

An inch ? A foot? A kilometer?

How do we measure the distance of attachment from within ourselves

She can fuck and still not give a damn

But he can’t take the rejection unless he blocks you on

Social media - which is the metric of attachment all at the ...

“This is my bed, go away”

His eyes, peaking from the covers, they say.

Then he comes in to snuggle

And my heart is kerfuffled....

It took me a long time to realize, and own, the fact that “no” is a full sentence.

If I liked the person asking, I would add “no, thank you” at the end, but if it was their second or third time asking me the same question, then I’d stop being polite.

Carla was in this second category of people. Don’t get me wrong, I liked Carla, but she could be a little pushy about things she thought she was ri...