how to make me fall in love with you: be a street painter.
be persistent; grab a latte and a butter croissant every day
and offer me half if you see me near. the sugar and sweetness
clouding on my tongue with each bite will remind me of you
and stop the memories from spilling out like the creamy filling.
don’t be afraid to stain your hands with paint and your cheeks
lay your art down rather than trapping the canvases beneath
your arm. let the honey and crimson and seaweed waltz and
spin and curl around one another.
i want to imagine that the curve of your neck smells like
citrus and yellow roses. and as your mouth slides open and
your brush caresses the cotton, as the beige smears over your
hair and the back of your neck and you don’t know it yet,
i want to-
i think my latte has grown cold, and there’s no butter left
on my croissant. i’ll see you again, dear street painter;
for now i’ll wrap the scarf around my neck and go.
Have you ever been in such an amazing mood that you are sure no one will be able to ruin? The feeling of floating without the fear of falling? I got to sleep in this morning, a fresh cup of chai latte with a warm croissant for breakfast, hair came out fabulous, make up on point and side walks salted properly so heels can adorn my feet! Life was amazing this morning until I walked in to my salon and found a bouquet of roses. Yes, that should be exciting but the card was less than stellar. Why do stalkers exist?! And how is it legal for them to take photos of people without their consent?