Thursday, March 3, 2016


            So this is the drive to a honeymoon. There are foggy windows and a hand on a thigh. There are absolutely zero rest stops and there is a late hotel check-in. There are two people and they are staring at the street in front of them, as it winds up beneath the car, like a film reel reaching its end. There is a soft score playing on the radio and there is a familiar humming.
            So this is a Sunday morning together. There is a long walk to the café and there is black coffee to pair with sweetener and cream. There is a rosy barista and there is a smiling couple to pair with two piping-hot drinks. The two smiling halves are one part of the world’s whole cup, but they float on their own sugar cube.
            So this is sleeping in with someone. There are Hallmark “bests” and “wishes” torn in two on the floor, and there sit the dollar-amount insides – neatly stacked on a bedside table. There are legs stacked on top of one another on a bed, like kindling. There is a fire always starting and then there is the comfortable gnaw of hunger. The crackling duo calls for pizza and when the man asks his wife what she would like, a match is lit. There is a white-hot understanding.
So this is what a new name feels like. So they can jump in the fire, and come out







good for the soul

ah, the sparks of a campfire. good things.

This has to be the most calming thing..

i always reblog this

can anyone else hear the sparks crackling?

I need this right now

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