An unexpected sunny Sunday, my scrawny arms relishing in that familiar kiss. A week of work achievements, of knowing I’ve found my “thing”. The reassuring nod, the gentle smile. Another week stepping back onto the uncomfortable, sometimes painful conveyor belt, rushing full throttle back into the past. But it’s okay. It’s all okay. The tenth paper envelope at the door, your familiar drawings scrawled on the front. One day I’ll scrawl them onto my skin, a story inked across my own canvas forever more. The music you recommended has echoed around the flat ever since.
“And a lion, a lion roars would you not listen?
If a child, a child cries would you not forgive them?”
A transcendent yoga class. Laughter on the sofa. My sister’s smile.
Everything. Nothing. All the colours in between.