The Temperature of Morning
When I open my eyes in the morning you're the first thing I think of. On the phone last night, instead of “good night” you said “see you tomorrow.” Those words are still in my ear, so even while making coffee I stirred the cold milk twice. The morning sun has its warm moments for people it likes and people it doesn't, but do you feel that the way I do? I still can't ask you about the season, and today's coffee is a little sweeter than usual.
At the dawn market, a woman was buying a bunch of chrysanthemums. She set her coins on the counter, hesitated a moment, then slipped in one more stem. Her fingertips stay with me.