Intervals

came onto her in intervals, where each joke told made her laugh & kept her smiling, looking at him & watching him move like a jester who was putting on a show solely for her & it was alright, she didn’t mind, because the thoughts she had were not being forced, they crept up comfortably & in time when he wasn’t around---she ran the moments that he made her laugh over & over in her head again, especially when she was alone or at work, cramming in school or hustling in the rampant demanding pace of everyday life, which unlike how he made her feel, didn’t seem to care whether she was alive or dead---the words he used were kind & they dropped like feathers in a light wind, drifting down in her memory later, mixing with the gentle brushes past, the bare touches of the hand, the closeness in an intimate space & even the heat that seemed to come from everywhere when the two of them were alone for whatever reason--- the eagerness she held inside was overwhelming, but she wasn’t rushing, she wasn’t panicking & she wasn’t worried, because it truly felt that he was in for the long haul & she enjoyed every minute of it.