days like this
25.10.10
sometimes i think about that
whisper between autumn and winter when it all started,
when we traveled on foot at the absence of a car
and the wind hitting our bodies was an excuse to touch-
collide at the bend of our fingers ever so slightly
until one of us mustered up the bravery to reach out.
i pull myself back into that second where
you pulled my hand up to your flushed cheek
and abruptly flung me over your back,
where i remained the whole way home as you
soaked your runners in puddles to save my furry shoes.
i often crave for those small gestures of surprise-
your nose buried in my hair, warm hands over ears,
the feeling of not knowing what would happen next
like reading a picture book for the very first time.
sometimes, i miss the days of discovery where
favorites places and things were discussed and debated,
but as much as i miss, crave, and pull myself back into such moments
i know that even if i was given the chance,
i wouldn't be anywhere but right here and now
whisper between autumn and winter when it all started,
when we traveled on foot at the absence of a car
and the wind hitting our bodies was an excuse to touch-
collide at the bend of our fingers ever so slightly
until one of us mustered up the bravery to reach out.
i pull myself back into that second where
you pulled my hand up to your flushed cheek
and abruptly flung me over your back,
where i remained the whole way home as you
soaked your runners in puddles to save my furry shoes.
i often crave for those small gestures of surprise-
your nose buried in my hair, warm hands over ears,
the feeling of not knowing what would happen next
like reading a picture book for the very first time.
sometimes, i miss the days of discovery where
favorites places and things were discussed and debated,
but as much as i miss, crave, and pull myself back into such moments
i know that even if i was given the chance,
i wouldn't be anywhere but right here and now