eggs in the morning

10:36 AM and a morning touched with the grey of anticipation.

The sky knows that winter is pushing through already,

Clouds both soft and heavy hide the sun;

Gold and faintly coloring the white walls in the kitchen.

I can’t make eggs in the morning without thinking of you...

Standing in this dorm kitchen,

Floor dirty but I still don’t wear shoes,

I decide the silence is too heavy for the moment

And turn on music that you showed me, about two years ago now.

That apartment on Rogers never leaves me.

Making our way through the stack of shit occupying the countertops,

You’d crack eggs over a hot pan

And I’d stand near the doorway or window just watching you,

A little insecure of my skin in new daylight.

Your tattoos were new to me then

And your hair hit your shoulder but you put it back.

This place felt so far away…. I liked it.

I never felt lost standing next to you.

You always feel so familiar

and still, so far.

Now,

the music’s not too loud

and the eggs are done cooking.