I Love That

I love that.

The way the moon reflects off the tinted glass panels of a three-story building.

I love that.

The way a blue fluorescent light can bring so much tranquility.
The way it hums softly in the night, like the creatures that sing and dance around it.

I love that.

The way the shadows of an oak tree can stretch across an empty parking lot.
The way the midnight breeze tickles its branches.
The way dried leaves flutter around its base and along a broken sidewalk, skipping lightly over the cracks.

I love that.

The way the wooden fences become a part of the darkness, and fade away.
The way the corner bricks of a quiet building are illuminated only by a single street light.
The way the tilted stop sign never abandons its post.
The way red light spreads across the gravel of a frozen intersection. Then changes color. A green smear. A yellow smear.

I love that.

The way I can hold her in my arms and not have to whisper a single word.
The way I move my chest with hers.
The way she rests her head on my shoulder, as we sit beneath this tree.
The way we listen to the sounds around us. The rustling of leaves. The hum of the street light. Even the changing colors, blocks away.
The way we talk and laugh and sing together without moving our lips at all. Breathing in the cool, fresh air, and pulling tighter to stay warm. Counting each other’s heartbeat. Closing our eyes at the same time, though neither of us would know it, just to hear, and feel, and believe that this is real.

I

Love

That.