on valentine’s day, the air was cold. i could feel the asphalt beneath us curling beneath its skin, holding its breath. the wind crept between the windows and left its fingerprints on my cheeks.
you took me out, hoping to get on a ferris wheel.
and there was glass on the cold asphalt, protesting under your tires,
there was a phone call and i listened to your patience thinning below your voice.
but you took me anyways,
and we watched the fish, and the water, and the cheesy jazz duo,
we slowed down
i could feel the ordinary
its breath on our neck
its delight in my chest