Missed Connections in Portland
Inhaling Her Fog
We stood under the rain drops and exchanged glances.
She was the most beautiful silent moment I’ve ever had.
Regaining sanity we found cover under the shelter.
I said hi, she said hi.
The lights appeared, and the carriage opened it’s doors.
She smiled and told me it was nice standing with me to share the loneliness of the evening cold.
Her fog lingered in the air as she boarded, and I stood like a little kid who just saw their first firework, taking in the few simple seconds with her.
Then I realized that my complete enamored heart, she’d taken with her.
I stood stunned, shot by an arrow, and I just waved her goodnight.
I watched the red lights turn left into the night.
Then I panicked.
I forgot to ask her what her favorite color was, and her favorite ice cream, and favorite shirt, and if she knew about the coffee shop down the street selling ridiculously good breakfast till 2pm.
She took her name too.
I lost her while I was busy inhaling her fog.
I know I may have had only a brief moment with her presence.
But I will wear the moment on me perhaps forever, because she is the fairy tail I will tell my grandchildren.
She is the never turn your back on a hint of fate.
I mostly just want to thank her because I know realistically, she only comes once in a lifetime.
And I am ok with that, I know Cupids arrow is a scar only some get to tell about.
Her Two Cents
It’s Friday afternoon, and in my corner of he world it’s finally warming up. The snow is melting, the ice shrinking into little glossy pools, and the birds have returned to their favorite branches. Is spring in the air? Is love in the air? Is that Cupid finally setting out on her northern migration? Scars can only occur when the body isn’t covered in sufficient armor, and right now, that’s a reasonable risk to take for the joy of uncovering.
