Morning Cup of Coffee
You're sitting beside me. You're reading aloud. You're smiling. I like it when you have that look on your face, like you're so pleased with something. Our knees just touched. I don't think you really noticed. The song I am playing right now has always made me think of past loves. It's strange to think of ours that way. Even if a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, let's call it what it is. There's no point in pretending it can be named any other thing, even when there is a language that has over 200 words for snow. I'm still labeling it "snow" and everyone knows that there is nothing more quiet than that.