Pink Lattes and A Slice of Poundcake

donning the tuxedo to wait in anticipation for her to meet you hand out hand in taking one out to bring in opening the heart and keeping the space that is made for her to wear the family name

Perhaps I have always been alone trying to make sense of a world where I was never meant to be navigating and triangulating through space and time wanting to be seen and heard in a maze not my own voices surrounding me but deafening the silence of the one desperately trying to be heard still sitting there alone

The world seemed to stand still in the rush of morning activity. Bookbags were hurriedly stuffed in the car, breakfast barely consumed, jackets hastily donned against the unexpected cold.  The promise of the day was unfolding as the engine made its roar to life and the blast of the car exhaust let out a poof of steam against the wind of this new day. Turning the corner, hoping to catch the light, coffee sipping and backseat chatting about the hope of seeing friends and discovering new things under the watchful eye of the teacher in the front.  The music softly played, NPR an afterthought, hands turning over wheel, lights on against the dawning mist, a new day of activity forming ahead. Pulled to the brick edifice of learning, little legs jumping out the door pushed open, grabbing the backback slung over one shoulder, "bye mom," in jubilant excitement, dashing off to 4th grade, waiting and meeting friends to go stand on line until the time to go inside, feeling confident...