Pretty pink hair and blue eyes that smile warmly. That’s all I ever see before the wind is knocked out of my chest and I can’t find the words to finish my thought. You wait expectantly, holding out a cappuccino, waiting for this transactional exchange to be finished. I ramble the first thing that comes to my mind, paying mind only to the cadence of my own voice, obsessing that it might match the warmth of your smile. The rock stuck in my throat tells me I have failed. Perhaps not all of us can grace this world with easy charm.
A song plays from the speakers, its hopeful notes will always remind me of you. Perhaps that is why I still play it when it rains: to summon warmth from the frozen skies on days that promise the opposite.
I know our paths may only cross briefly, but I will never forget what your absentminded kindness has made me understand.
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