closer

her ash brown hair fell to her shoulders, framing her face. her walk, hurried but unapologetic. we knew she'd be late. us already seated in the table for four looked at her as if suddenly the world narrowed and everything else was blurred and she alone was distinct. the color of her hair, her breasts against the soft bronze blouse, that big brown bag slung over a shoulder carelessly, legs moving in a purposeful dance. her closest closest's fingers paused in mid sentence, the phone waiting for the love making of his words. his body leaned towards the table, his lips slightly pouting. i imagined him already consoling her. they have always been like that- their love best expressed in their silence. i imagined they have only begun to discover each other.

to my right sat the constant man in my life, and in so many ways, in hers too. he had a smile, the kind that only good friends can give. he noticed how her breasts seemed more pronounced. that's how he told us no matter what crossroads we find ourselves in, we will always have a good laugh.

she passed by the carousel. for a fraction of a moment the lights burned her soft brown eyes. i waited for her like a child would for the balloon man. there was so much to tell her.