Come Here

 this day

Dinner at eight. It was a bit later and I served myself. She was silent when I got up to do so. Our conversation was whirling as fast as the ceiling fans just before that. It had to do with the Aussie vs Greek Wimbledon match, with Nadal segments, and then the Phillies and Cards came on. Hers' tennis, not baseball. She said she wasn't hungry in the whirl. 

It, for me, was a day about not thinking about the things on my mind while there was conversation and food. But before all that, I went to the supermarket. I needed, say, six items and went blank on getting some chocolate milk. I was getting some cakes. It would have been perfect. I did get sherbet. It goes good with Chinese food and not so much the eggplant. 

Her kiss while leaving out the door was as good as what you didn't see. It's to the point and not like three paragraphs of a Fabio romance novel. I was putting my hand on the door knob that she stood next to and didn't need a paragraph, two words, come here.

words & pictures by roman blazic_all rights reserved