It was so bright that afternoon I thought I was seeing everything under a magnifying glass. All the vibrant colors of spring were intensified to the point where my spirit was bursting with poems. We lay together as the cool breeze entered through the open windows and whizzed around the fan. Sweat collected on his upper lip and made him taste like the sea as we kissed. Softly, he tickled my belly button as I giggled wildly. Suddenly, the rhythmic sound of a car’s motor made its way up the driveway.
“A delivery for you,” someone called from downstairs. I looked at him knowingly. Anxiously, I tumbled down the stairs, colliding with a vase of carnations.
“Carnations?!” he yelled suspiciously. “I ordered a bouquet of exotic flowers!”
But that was just it – our love wasn’t exotic. It was ordinary, but beautiful just the same. The relationship, like the flowers, eventually wilted, but the vase remains, waiting to be filled again.