summer nights, couch

Cool, light breeze whispering in between the curtains; carrying that gentle summer night. I’m undone, on the couch, each second breathed in and out, slow steady thoughts, slow steady life.

Lights dimmed, record player spinning, each note dancing, intertwining dna with that summer wind, murmurs of the world; it’s okay, it’s okay, it’ll be okay.

And the world slows, and I sink through these folded layers. I think of those I love, I see those dancing memories, fireflies fluttering, stars twinkling. I want to collect time, sculpt like only an artist can do, relive those laughing nights, long hugs, glances and touches of care.

I drink in the gentle air, I weave those twinkling musical notes, I let this moment be everything.

And I lie here and I think: thank you to my self, years ago, for fighting tooth and nail to make it here. And I think to my older self: I promise to do the same for you. And I am doing the same for you.