with one hundred miles in between.
after; 22 october, 2010.
after; 12 september, 2010.
it’s the way his eyelashes rest on his cheeks when he’s sleeping, the curve of her lips when she’s just woken up. it’s the high thread count, the mattress that lies on the floor. it’s the smell of the earth after a heavy rain, it’s the taste of his sweat, it’s the feel of the water when it hits your face in the morning, it’s the sound a freewheel makes when a bike is coasting, it’s the way she looks when she brushes her hair from her forehead. that’s home.
woke up at five thirty three this morning and sat on the front steps, drinking fresh black coffee. i like mornings like this where i can close my eyes and feel everything that’s going on around me. the warmth of the mug in my hands with the taste of the coffee on my lips, the cold wind on my bare knees, my hair cascading over my shoulders and caressing my arms, the birds waking around me, the smell of wet earth. i don’t get many quiet mornings like this and i take them in with all i have in me.