musk and rose baths. rain i wished for. english muffins with honey and butter. iron & wine, circa 2002. the national, circa 2007. poetry and prose over breakfast and baths. their sing-song angel voices finding me through the window from four floors down as they strolled the sidewalk as father and son. eggs scrambled in butter with parmesan and chives. our third may together, if you keep count by the pull of the moon.
that last line!ReplyDelete