fuse composite

Fuse Composite

If you told me I would step over a body, in broad daylight, when I was ten.

I likely may have objected.

The sun is barely up when I see him at first. Nose tucked to knees. Wool hat on a warm day. Stepping over him doesn’t bother me, I don’t get that far.

When I see him; I turn the other way.

It is not a usual switch to rejection that I am hitting a stranger with right now. It is an open lack of desire to know more.

I’ve discovered that once you truly see enough. There is nothing else to view.

I would rather walk away in a blink than try to tell the hows and whys of both of us. Standing here. In Central Park. At 5am, on the first warm day after a very late spring.
Daffodils bloomed and wilted into frost as winter reminded us all that she wasn’t ready to leave. I never thought the goosebumps were going to go away.

I don’t notice, but he slightly stirs at the sounds of the wind in my hair as I act like nothing obstructed my path.

I turn back; like I heard something. When I am truly looking for another way.

In the future, he will think of a hesitant silhouette and back to the best night of his life, in the center of New York City, waking up in the grass, with this presence – of another…

He will smile and silently sigh.

I turn back; like I heard something.

Until we walk away.