the foggy morning had turned into a lazy saturday afternoon and she could feel her heart beating in her throat when the evening came. his mind was traveling too fast and getting enveloped by things he could never predict and if she was there she would take his hand in hers and rub his fingers until he closed his eyes and breathed out. her day brought cold mist onto her cheeks as she rode down neighborhood streets, returning home to where she could create. she flipped through magazines but couldn’t escape the aching spot that she felt after they had said goodbye. the space between now and the time she sees him, she tries to fill the hours and speed up the moments. she sleeps better knowing they’ll soon be close, he watching her cheeks get rosy as they drink, she watching his eyes light up as they talk and laugh. she imagines how he might first take her hand and he thinks of how soft her skin will be as he pulls her close for the first time. she wonders if she’ll feel shy at first…there are butterflies but with her favorite hat on and ruby lips, there is comfort in what he’s told her.
a girl not looking for anything in particular in the springtime found simplicity in a friendship and easy intimacy in the way they spoke as summer turned to fall. winter loomed and she reached for him, not knowing if he’d take her hand. his pain seeped into her blood and it was hard for her to sleep. she hoped he would find rest and see glimpses of sun in his cloudy days. she dreamed of quiet afternoons crunching through snow and mornings with hot coffee and gray skies and early walks along the water. but mostly, she thought of his hands. waiting for hers.
Faith is the bird that sings when the dawn is still dark.