tu corazón y mi

Durante veces cómo está, cuando el sol es roso y el cielo es morado, yo sé que te amo. Los colores del día…cambian, pero mi amor para ti no. Es fuerte y para muchos años.

Cada tiempo hay una diferencia en los colores, yo sé dónde puedo escogerte. Estás en mi corazón, segura y feliz.

Eres el sol de mi vida. Mi luz. Mi fuente de felicidad.

Creo que su amor puede tocar mi corazón como un violín y crea un sinfonía bellísima.

1.5 year anniversary

Mi media naranja. Eres la dulce de mi vida. Gracias por 1.5 años contigo.

A muchas más.

my cutie
Just like the first date
Advertisements

flutter

e has a thing for indie tunes, so we were sitting in the hardwood floors in the low light of my living room and listening to her favorite arctic monkeys track. the cat snuggles into e’s arms; the flickering light of the vanilla candle wavers in his yellow eyes.

it’s wednesday and we feel like we’re flying, watching the shadows dance in the ceiling, lying on blankets, talking about the stars with intermittent silence. the quiet is comfortable and we enjoy the sad indie jams and think about life.

the record player hums, the bass buzzes in our ears, and my mind continually wanders to marigolds and the shade of orange in the sunset that night.

it reminded me of ashes crumbling to the ground after someone taps their cigarette. the paintings on the wall come alive in my mind. i become consumed by the music, and i capture these feelings in my mind.

nostalgia for the present moment.

e still has daisies in her hair from earlier that evening, and i notice she’s fallen asleep.

-i hope she dreams of a wide open lavender field and monarch butterflies tonight

temporary things; eternal moments

We were hurtling down rural New York back roads and admiring the sunset. It was the type of lilac and light rose that you rarely see. It had us enamored and we gazed through our open windows at the sky.

As we turned around the bend, we rapidly approached the lake.

“Pull over!” I yelled, pointing towards the water.

Terri turned into the parking lot and we jumped out of the car, racing to the water’s edge. Our little dog, Ollie, could hardly keep up.

Terri crashed into the water, wading in as high as her shorts allowed, admiring the oranges and yellows emerging from the sunset.

I soaked in the moment, amazed at the sight before me.

“We really do live in a beautiful place.” I murmured under my breath.

I sat down on the grassy shore and watched Terri for a few moments as the sun crept lower and lower behind the hills. At this moment, I wanted nothing more than to capture these feelings forever.

The sound of the gentle lapping of the water washed into my ears, and the air from the summer breeze filled my lungs. There was a boat, floating nearby, and I watched the reflected pinks fade to blues on its sails.

My bare feet in the cool grass, I pondered something Terri had mentioned earlier.

She said that we are merely in a temporary place, with temporary people, and temporary jobs. For us, New York is temporary. It won’t last for more than another year before we run off to our next adventure.

But sitting there, counting the fireflies among us, I knew that this moment is not temporary. Something about this moment, with Terri, is eternal.

How do we explain this phenomenon, of being together in this moment forever in our minds?

I want to live in this memory and swim in its colors. I want to jar the scent of the water and the air, and store the sounds in a conch shell to retrieve whenever I see fit. I never want the sunset to end.

Terri splashed into the water as the sunset drew to a close. The remaining orange glow warmed her face, and I captured a photo that will never do her true beauty justice.

Hand in hand, we walked back to the car, Ollie tangling himself in his leash.

In ten short minutes, the memory making ended.

Where does one go from here?

the sun closes out another chapter

If you’ve ever rushed down country back roads in Upstate New York,

with the lavender and cotton candy skies behind you,

a small dog on your lap, and

with your partner’s hand on the back of your neck,

while a song that stirs up feelings of nostalgia plays on the radio,

then you know what it’s like to be in love.

christmas eve

the winters wind in wakefield

whispered in my ears

as my best friend and i walked

up and down the rocky beach.

pink is my favorite color,

so we picked up all the rose rocks

we could find.

we stood over the stones

admiring their marbled complexions.

the beach was empty–

save for a lonely young girl and a strange man–

so we wandered towards the

seaside cottages.

the abandoned huts stood on

wooden beams, holding them strong.

many of the windows were boarded up

with “for sale” signs

and I recalled my childhood

dream

of living by the sea.

my friend and i collected nine rocks that day.

-in rhode island, i felt alive again.