we are moving in twelve days.

had a moment to catch ourselves this morning, she made waffles and we leaned against each other on the couch in a pool of sun, melted butter warm. talking of the new york times. heather said once that love has a common language, and she was right. she was right about a lot of things, she was the only one i (almost) believed when she told me i'd have this again. thawed hands, a working heart. auden: "all you lived through, dancing because you no longer need it for any reason." hmm, i may have misquoted that, but i am too lazy to look it up at present.

she painted the office yellow for me.
melted butter warm.
sunshine warm.