two turtle doves

accoutrements for a sleepy sunday: rosemary honey & raspberry jam
mug full of: soy cinnamon hot cocoa

there is a sense of urgency to dipping pain au pistache et raisins in milky coffee. the honey man at the place Monge market lets me taste all of the varieties: i do not like thyme. i came home with more fruit than i could carry & a candle that smells of freshly cut grass.

you speak, in the waning light, using round gestures to draw maps in the air, of worlds that we will visit. i see spain converge with the south of france & falter as you break into laughter in the old-fashioned chocolate shop, giggles tinkering off of glass display cases.

even when i miss people (rarely more than four quiet souls), i remember how lucky i am.