Recycling day
Cactus and hibiscus was what he admired most. I remember it all, a diary with thorns on the exterior. Concepts once unable to flower– what silly flowers. A playful punch to my stomach, a brief interlocking of the eyes, hazel on blue. Such things were forbidden to him, like a grin that passed my temples– nothing. What a strange day it was, my mind an encyclopaedia by sunset.