Thursday, April 3, 2014

Grilled Cheese, Tomatoes, Avocado

When I give up you'll know my name.  Then we'll meet beneath that old elm tree atop rustic rolling hills above a sea waving washed out golden wheat and you'll flatter me with compliments of days we'd spent, with attributes I'd forgot. And I'll marvel at your eyelashes, lips, the way your eyes involuntarily expand and contract based upon the activity of your blood. Intermittent breathing between oceans of space then synaptic gasps. You have millions of tendencies recollected each time we meet and I know so many of them and will keep a few secrets so you don't ever watch them and try to change. You said come find me. That there will come a time you'll disappear and that we may get lost but to come find you. We made a plan for a place in which to leave a letter.

Phone call.

Talking on the phone with my dad. Gossiping even.