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Canberra

A blonde in white-green pyjamas waves at me right in front of Starbucks. Your messy hair grabs my attention. When our gaze meets, you drag your Converse on the floor like a nail on a chalkboard. Then, your playful smile rejoices, a wink, a few eye drops for a better view. Exhilarating orange blossoms and the entry bell jingle at the sound of your notification bell. Your mom. 
Your light footsteps dazzle back to my car and come back to me without your eyes open, just a plain endorsement with a T. 
24 minutes later, you matcha your phone and cream your charger, with your left fingertips on your lips. You plug it into my carrot cake and your phone inside my pocket. You stare into my eyes this time, trying to figure out my story. 
The waitress asks for a charger.
The exchange rewards a ring.
Followed by an innocent handshake. 
You walk towards me, the next countdown, with your cold hands on my eyes, and your left cheek of my right.
Looking for the moment of tears,
I remember the skies that tasted like filth and chocolate,
But a moment of connection when I came across:
Humility, when I fell on a white prom dress as a prom queen,
Innocence, when I came last in all NCAA mile events. 
Mercy, when they slapped me 24 times on my right cheek. Will you marry me?


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