Fear can stop your loving,
love can stop your fear.
But it's not always that clear.
Streets feel strange.
The smirking tulips and lilac lullabies
caress the air
as I make my way down
Central Park West
in my burgundy cap and gown—
three inches too long.
You paced the corridors of my mind
as my calloused hand met another and another
until my blushing cheeks
were coated with fuchsia, primrose and crimson lipstick.
Endless embraces. A river of memories,
and your boat floats among them.
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