Most mornings I wake to a pear on my bedside table. this morning was no different. i can hear thunder in the distance, and everything outside my window is this deep shade of blue, the same as your eyes that i haven't seen in months. baby's breath from the market lies at the foot of my bed. i think of how nice it is to feel the weight of something other than you.
i watch the towels spin in their places as they hang in the window. they are supposed to be drying, but the morning rain soaked them. i laid in the pair of underwear i bought from the grocery store because i liked the frills along the bottom. the fan blows my hair, making it stick to my face. i think of how it feels to miss something you can't have and how this will all be over soon.