GreyBean

I know your face like the back of my hand. 
And today, I was told that I only have 
a month left
to see your face. 

I think I understand it now. 
Life is a clock,
a clock with a clear beginning, 

A List of Things That Remind Me of You:
1. South America, Africa, and Colombia
2. maps of the world
3. water polo
4. umbrellas
5. laughter
6. smiles
7. incorrect counting
8. teasing
9. pajama pants
10. swimming pools

I'm scared. 

I'm scared of thinking that our president 
might not be able to right wrongs
and heal a 
divided land. 

I'm scared for our country,
of what some have stood and fought for. 

She asked what makes us hurt,
and so I gestured to my tears,
I gestured to my chest—
the beating, breaking heart inside. 

She asked what makes us happy,
and so I gave her a hug,
I gave her a bundle of flowers—

  It's a small window, with wood frames and frozen glass. The outside is covered with ice, the inside warm next to the fire beside me. Trees sway outside, snow drifting off their branches.

  We've never been to this park before. I've never heard of it before. We sit in an isolated, slightly shady cement area with tables. Behind us is a dark wood fence, with ivy crawling up its boards and pine needles drowning in its depths.