I thought about the steam rising from the concrete today.
How a mist covered all spaces one would want mist, to feel alive.
I had on beautiful indie acoustic.
Hand out the window
Fingers playing with the clouds passing by.
I took a deep breath and smiled one of those smiles you have as your child is born or you marry the love of you god damn life.
I remember only you looking at me saying “why is your face so weird” knowing full well you were my fucking one.
I thank and hate you a thousand times over for these beautiful blips in time.
Even as I allow myself to open to another I feel like I am yours.
Promised under god and law.
I wish we could have loved in the way I am capable now.
Although I feel as though I would run you off.
Nevertheless I miss you.
Seconds
Years
Decades
Millennials
I am dying with and without your existence.
The Optimistic Widow 