Knowing I wanted to visit Greenwich Village, she had added it to our plans. Full of exploration, shopping, dining, and dancing, we are on the subway train back to Manhattan. We couldn’t have done anything more, anything better; the perfect couple; the perfect day.
Exhausted, fulfilled, and ready for bed, we are in one of those lulls that follows a person after they have been fully engaged in something great that results in timelessness. She sits across from me, arms rested on shopping bags, as the train moves through patches of light and dark, light and dark, her in each frame. As our day together passes through my mind again, I have no doubt we are madly in love… and yet, there is that, is this all as real as it seems kind of edge in these silent frames of her in light and shadow.
The occasional sound of rails; the electric clash of cables; it is one of those late night, oddly quiet rides to have so many people around. As the day’s images fade from my mind, she appears again, in a moment that seems like forever. It does not feel good or bad, high or low, I just keep sensing something like the end…
breakfast in bed
the tailor’s perfect stitch
in her kimono
.
– incense dreams 1.3 –
Steven Smolak's Haiku Middle America 