Beauty after the breakdown

cuz it felt alright sitting together on that stoop

We hid in the shadow of that sun that finally has landed us something not freezing. No later than March first in an early spring, before the end of winter, blessing.

It was no more than 45 and some decent winds. A few traveling clouds to dim the sky to an in between. Some kind of a blue gray.

And so I stood there in a euphoria after running. It just clicked, and it was beautiful. We were warm enough to cool off outside. Such an innocence we created. We laughed. I hopped around like a doofus, cracking jokes, but limping like a fool. It just didn’t matter. He came out the door and sat on the stoop after he realized she and I had stayed outside. We joked. He tried to stay warm, but yet his shorts slid below his thigh as his knees were angled up high. I tried not to stare, it wasn’t what I was looking for. She sat exhausted, ridden out to her highest potential. My eyes just kept catching it, until I realized he must have been wearing some kind of white under armor short spandex. But they were unusually short. Afterwards it made no difference. I still bobbled, and she still caught her breath. It was a moment of enjoyment, when we could simply sit and enjoy who we were, be pleased with one another. Then another him came. An old friend, he made it more secluded conversation, and caused some movement, and broke up the tranquility. The three of us could each feel the resistance, the appeasement, the strength in which we didn’t want to move.

It is to these moments of happiness when we all put up ignorances, and get lost in each other.
The moments where nothing from before matters, and nothing after either. Just now. Just to stay intoxicated by the stroke of the early summer heat.