29 April 2019

in high bloom.

whispered my heart: remember us like this, central park in high bloom, one shining morning of spring, inside the hour before papa sat down to work on an ordinary monday, mama in a dress the color of tea trailing close behind you, you always checking over your shoulder to make sure i am only steps away (i am only ever steps away), pausing to nurse, pausing for crepes on the way home, pausing for every stick and fallen blossom in your view, the three of us belonging so wholly (so holy) to each other, squeezing every last drop from this life.

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