pretty shoes

You wore pretty but uncomfortable shoes. You wore good makeup, and the right perfume. Your hair was done up just so. You have a good job. Your child goes to the right school. I listened to you and heard so many complaints about life, about the world. Nothing was enough and you live tied in knots and self imposed bondage.

I need to remember the most simple of pleasures again and again. I need to remember the sunrise and the soft sound of the rain. I need to remember that the tulips are in bloom. I need to remember smell of lilacs. I need to remember the touch of my lover’s skin and the sound of my child’s breath. I need to remember my sons voice telling me he loves me, or telling me to go away with so much tenderness that I can hear the love underneath.