Spring

The Spring approaches quickly. My heart quickens pace at the thought of it. My mind drifts to warm days and cool nights. I think of rushing from work to meet you in the park. There you were perched on one arm reading in the grass. I loved to sneak up quietly and slide right into you wrinkling my crisp business attire. It looked so staunch next to your chucks and jeans, but I didn’t care. I’d simply remove my heels and walk barefoot through the city, next to you, we made sense.

You interlocked my fingers on date two and loved me even then. I knew you did. We were very creative with our words knowing “love” could get us into trouble. Instead you’d say, “You truly are made of beauty. It is a gift to merely brush up against such beauty in ones lifetime. To smell it on my hands after a night of getting to hold it. What grace is ours?!” You’d call me, “Sweetness,” “Love,” “Treasure,” “Precious,” “Adoration, you push me and move me...and always away from fear.”

Yeah, you said that. You spoke those things to me and you meant them. My words gushed forth with such sap and schmooze. I loved you with my phrases and those stares you just didn’t know what to do with. I remember your kindness now and how young our love was, so tender and fragile. But, we laughed and we giggled and we paraded public displays of affection in nearly every park this grand city has to offer. I loved that spring and I loved you in the spring. It will always taste different to me now.

Not quite two years have passed since our spring of affection, though it now seems so far. You’ve since left the city and me in it. But, your sweetness returns; in the blooming flowers, the itchy grass against my skin, the warmth of the sun that enraptures me.. I remember you.