memories
There are certain things that jar my memory. Very quick. Like I'll be walking and something, anything just does it. A smell, a type of weather, a voice or noise. Stops me dead in my step. Often, if I have the minute I'll stop and savor it. Stop and stand with my eyes shut in an attempt to absorb every last bit of that feeling. Raise my chin up to the sky as though I'm sunning my face. I yearn for these fleeting moments. The thing that I love about them most is that they're completely genuine, difficult to replicate and that much better because of this.
A snowflake falling on my tongue when I was 5. A cold day on the shore of the great south bay skipping stones with my grandfather. In bed with the first women I loved who loved me back. Having lunch on a rusted bench under an old cherry tree in my back yard 2 days before school started. Late summer mornings cuddled with my parents as a child. Later summer nights out, up to no good, almost an adult.
I miss this.
A snowflake falling on my tongue when I was 5. A cold day on the shore of the great south bay skipping stones with my grandfather. In bed with the first women I loved who loved me back. Having lunch on a rusted bench under an old cherry tree in my back yard 2 days before school started. Late summer mornings cuddled with my parents as a child. Later summer nights out, up to no good, almost an adult.
I miss this.