The hours I spent
in that coffee shop
smelling the tendrils of familiarity
immersing myself in the comfort of strangers’ conversations
and feeling the warmth from the embrace of my oversized sweater.
seem to sway the movement of the clock.
I was looking at myself through the eyes of a little blue girl I knew a month ago.
I wonder how she could spent the whole day without worries.
she stares out the window occasionally, smiling to herself
she talks to herself softly while she does her readings
she stays until the streetlights blur the raindrops trailing on the glass.
does she know everyone in the room could hear her heartbeat?
how it beats to the rhythm of happiness.
it is assuring to know that she is no longer blue but basking in warm heated beauty
All love, blissinlace