three floors up
smells like...like...like...
like how it should smell
the way i had always pictured it in my head
when i thought i would be alone
tearing into my existence
with take out and merlot

it's different
with him here
not like i could ever know
but i feel it, in the pit of my stomach
where emotion goes to sleep and awakens

slicing through every day
untasted fruit, juicy and fresh
my stuff -- our stuff gracing the wood floors
wiggling into knooks and pockets
creating a picture of our lives in this moment

and i sit on the black stool in the kitchen
the one with "just walk away" painted on it (my gift to him)
bewildered and content
not even bothering to go over in my head
for the millionth time
how i arrived here, in this place
with him

05/15/2006

Author's Note: waiting until the dust settles...

Posted on 05/16/2006
Copyright © 2025 Ginette T Belle