v u l v a l i c i o u s
you can't (help) but smile
You kicked my foot when you walked up to me, a smile pouring itself over your face. Spreading like an egg yolk. Silly, affable, easy, yet a mess.
And the day floats on, a white cloud inching through a brilliant blue sky that, if it could, would make itself one perfect shade of blue throughout. We drift and stop, linger and then depart, our shadows playing a lazy game of leap frog with one another.
We hug goodbye and I want more, but I can't kiss you in the day light. Not with the world so close and you so tall and your smile still there and the sky to the north threatening rain, infringing upon the blue sky afternoon.
But it turns out that I never walk away without a fight. Without a shout or a whisper or some final word that sounds like "(will you) please" but could be "(on your) knees" or perhaps "(lost my) keys." If you will. Although I am pretty sure you won't, that even if you heard me you'd keep walking, a crooked-toothed grin circling you like a bird.