Your smell still graces my fingers as I walk down this amber road. I reach in my purse to pull out the pink cream-pop gloss you so loved to lick off my eager lips last night. The sun catches the fly away hairs on my head and gleams golden in the early morning hours and a smile embraces my face and I can’t help but giggle a little bit. No one is around to catch the giddy motion in my step. It’s all mine to take in as I walk home. Cutting through the park, I look down and notice my blistered heel where the black pump made its mark as we danced. Unnoticed until now, because your eyes were all I could see. The air smells of mothers cooking eggs for their children and lights turn on like dominoes down this corridor of urban homes. Never have my senses been so keen as today, here and now this beautiful October morning.
An energy from my navel to my throat spins me into my building. I don’t remember how I got there, only that I was sitting at the kitchen table, nibbling on a juicy apple my mother had brought me yesterday. I glanced down at the passersby and ate it down to the core, letting its juice play on the skin of my chin. I slipped off my black dress and knew today and the next were going to be different. That somehow, between last week and this very moment, I had finally found myself and had really begun to experience every moment in real time; the cool canvas against my newly shaved thigh as I curl up on the couch to read my latest novel. The rough pages that slip through my fingers as I turn each page. The smell of black ink wafting up my nose as I appreciate all that is written and ever will be. The warm ceramic mug that holds the deep rich warmth I swallow for clarity and how the cream swirls like storm clouds.
It’s been too long since I’ve had something real; something tangible. Under no pretense of infallibility. A real sense that this too, could be lost. Could be gone forever if I don’t treat it carefully. The excitement is almost too much to handle. I lay on my bed, ready to sleep the morning away and the phone rings. It’s him.
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