"I love the way people exist, like the way they take their morning coffee or the face they make when they're thinking or the way they sing in the shower or how they stay up all night reading or the way they feel when certain songs come on or the way they give spare change to homeless people or how they give up their seat for an elderly lady on the subway or how they dance around in their underwear when no ones around or the way they chew their pens or how they twiddle their thumbs and they way they laugh, I just love it, I love watching people exist and I love existing with them." Sylvia says.
"I love existing with you" I say.
"I love existing with you too" she says.
We laugh.
YOU ARE READING
Perfect Hurricane
PoetryWhen Lolita spoke nothing else mattered He could only hear her The loud noise of passing of cars and pedestrians and screaming sea gals was nothing compared to the loudness he heard in Lolita's voice A soft voice that put him to sleep every night A...
