You walk late into the philosophy class. You carry a name I want, you are wearing a hat with a pompom. You sit next to your friend. Your friend made space for me before the class; you sit behind me. Continue reading “Hands and Hats”
There may be a day some time in the future when I no longer care about you. The familiar feeling of your embrace would be like a memory of a good book I’ve read, or a movie I’ve seen. Like a memory of my hand in David’s in the Azalea Garden, in June of 2007. So what if I remember the month and year, I am good with calendars, that’s all. It might have been May, too. When do the azaleas bloom? It was a Tuesday.
About you, I’ll remember there were Mondays. Continue reading “Mondays”