Sunshine streams in through every window and I can't hide my glowing face. I've been here before. It smells familiar, but I'm not quite sure how long it's been. A strange satisfying déjà vu of emotion drips down my laugh lines and settles in my clavicle. I lift a hand to wipe it away, then change my mind. The memory of genuine love poetry enlaces itself between my fingers into a ribbon of imperfect reason and meaning. I'd love to tie your shoes up with it so you'd carry it everywhere you went. Remember this girl? I know you missed her too.
I'm happy.
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