rout with the cleaning crew

you know what doesn't need to happen on a wednesday afternoon?

leaf blowing.

the harsh buzz of it's electric motor seems to drown out all happy thoughts previously swirling inside your head and replaces them with the dull pain of a headache. every time. for me, patches of leaves laying delicately on the sidewalk, clustered along the edge of a brick wall, or nestled beneath the tree from which it fell is a calming scene. a fallen leaf signifies the turn of the summer season into autumn to which we greet with open arms and cowl neck sweaters. there's no need for all this blowing-around drama. upsetting the natural flow of things;

dang, anything else?

love to live

sometimes all you need is a hug; that piece of physical contact to remind you you're a part of someone's life. their chest touches yours and the heat makes contact with your skin. like slipping into a hot bath on a cold evening, your shivering ceases for that moment. your arms wrap under theirs as they take you in, holding you, as you release into them for support. your head turns to rest on their shoulder; facing outward so that your head tucks into the crook of their neck like a puzzle piece.

you breath. it feels weightless, like how breathing is supposed to be.

choices

it's one or the other. you two are like night and day, i swear. if a spectrum could be more opposite, it would put you on separate sides of the earth ... wait, you already are. physically.

and how do i respond? is there a different part of mar designated for each of you? i don't feel like a sectioned piece of poultry, but perhaps it's a separation under the surface; undetectable.

maybe it's like apples and oranges. they cannot be compared and neither is superior, but merely looked at as unique entities. so is it citrus or pomes?

i say banana for now.

stay free.

at first glance

at first glance, i was a vagabond. or maybe i was homeless ... at least some kind of wandering penniless harlot. that's what you'd assume a person walking along the highway would be; one of those three. head down against the texas sun at 3 in the afternoon, squinting to look forward at the cars whizzing by; making a face easily misconstrued as hopelessness. the eyes in the cars follow you for a second, unwilling to turn their heads, so as not to look on too directly.

i was on the way to an appointment with the dermatologist. no vagabond here. in an attempt to arrive at EO Med Spa without walking too far in the afternoon sun, i pulled the bus cord too late. i saw the last rout 21 bus stop sign right before crossing over the highway, but the bus had already began its descent across the underpass, joining the car traffic and coming to a stop on the other side. half a mile too far.

i exited the doors and thanked the driver politely. trudging along the side of the concrete barrier with oncoming highway traffic a little too close on my right, i let the cars think whatever they wanted about some tall girl in a blue workshirt squinting and walking along Mopac at 3 in the afternoon.