Monday, August 16, 2010
I walked past the house that should be yours. The front was perfect, I knew your room was the one above the garage, it had to be. I imagined us, you and me, walking the neighborhood, going to the park. All I would ever need would be right there. I imagined walking to your house, my legs quickly scissoring down the street, anxious to see you. I imagine bike rides, in summer, in winter. I imagined walking in the rain, the storm caught us off guard down the street. Carpooling for cheaper gas, when we both can drive. I imagined it all, walking past the house that should be yours.