It makes me happy to still know you. Happenstance and chance creating vectors of not amazing, but attractive in that inoffensive, smooth-cheeked, highschool kind of way. Food from the past future featuring powder and microphones. Camera lenses would show only details, and not my inner amusement at our carefully simple conversation. So clean, so sleek, so carefully groomed.
I’m reading a new book that’s inspiring me to write again. Actually sit and portray sentence and word and wit in letters. I’m remembering the flow of language. How turning a precise phrase makes me feel. The shape of my mouth saying the word, “love”. My tongue touching the roof of my mouth only briefly. I wanted to hold your hand for a moment, but only because I’ve been lonely.