9.27.22

Love is supposed to give you wings, he said. His back against the grey sky, gulls in the distance circling his head. I could see my breath in the cold air. Walking home last night, I could feel my heart growing three times in my chest. Maybe love wasn't an act of giving your heart away, but having it returned to you. It still hurt. I looked up at the same sky and tried to imagine what it would feel like to fly.