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I see you, and them, puffy parka’d and beautiful beyond words, snow crunching silently beneath your six boots on the infrequently dirt road, hand in hand & hand in hand, her looking back at the fresh tracks just made, him looking at you, wondering if he’ll ever love another quite this much, you looking up at me, smiling but not seeing, yet knowing I’m there, as ever, watching, aching, bursting. I push away from my desk and rush down the stairs to beat you to the front door and fling it open widely, “Tah-DAH!”, this little game a product of some small family moment long forgotten yet cherished and protected with ferocity, this speculated love lived for so long in the abstract now so very Here.
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The lady muse dresses in her finest clothing and pitches us every wonderful idea she thinks we’re best suited for, and she does so daily. Harnessing inspiration is as easy as a willing smile, a firm shake of her hand and allowing yourself, recklessly, to both to work with her and—most importantly—trust her implicitly.
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“Everything is Practice” by Jake Sumner. Featuring Spike Lee.
