Flirtations

The game is in finding the edge. Getting as close to it as possible without careening over. Like when the horizon is still pregnant with the sky before the sun asserts itself as day. Or when they ask "What can I make you for dinner because you've done so much for me over the years?", and the question holds you like a warm blanket to which an answer is forever irrelevant. Or when the entire house is silent as you sit in your yellow chair by the window and the morning light pours over you, absolving you of agendas and acronyms. And when you pick as many cherries from a tree as your bucket can hold, while laughing at the others also feverishly picking with the promise of cherry pie and ice cream. Lose yourself in a sea of clues and feigned accents and let the answer to 'who dunnit' find you. Let your breath gently graze the skin of the moment and allow the long gazes, frivolous laughter, and the decadence of stillness slowly penetrate and saturate your breath. As with a fusion of gases in the distant sky, we know a star will be born. Until then, let yourself dance among the stars already there.