I am tired in my very bones today. My body aches, my eyes are forming bleary tears every time I yawn.
But even with that, while at the park and feeling achy, slow, I still notice you. And when I take the time to do it, time completely stops; it’s like I’m freezing you into my memory —
Glittering onyx eyes.
Light brown hair. I see every strand moving as you move, and there must be a hundred different colors in there.
Fuzzy brow.
Cheeks that lift up forty-five degrees every time you smile.
Eyelashes so full and thick that strangers stop us.
How can I possibly express to you, even when I’m tired, even if I’m agitated, that you mean this much to me?
Will you ever know?
Paradise is:
Your small warm hand, wrapped in mine.
small life, slow life 