Not a moment,
but collective feeling.
You can't pick it up,
unless it has a heartbeat.
You can't define it, because
it is ever-changing.
It's a feeling that comes when you close your eyes
and receive a kiss unexpectedly.
It is also a box with many hearts
captured in photographs.
It is music because of the clash of the symbol
and steady beat of the stretched leather
which used to be the skin to the gentle, black-eyed
Sleeping babies against the skin of your chest
even with sticky sweat and heat of the summer,
no AC, just feeling your heart swell in that heat.
It's relief from clutter, physical and emotional.
Happiness will always be changing,
and not ever-present,
making every moment it blossoms
more important than the last.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
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