He’s been coming around here for awhile now, almost so often that should a day pass during which his towering frame happens to not cross my threshold, I’m left, in a way, out of sorts. He’s not mine, or at least, not yet – but that’s no way to think about things like that.

The natural pout of his lips has a tendency to infiltrate significantly more pressing thought processes, knocking the mind off-course with fanciful gale-force winds and a sly smile that speaks of nothing in particular but conveys everything, altogether.

I brace for the impact, while concurrently dangling bare feet from open doorways, manipulating his current in delicate ways before falling turns to landing.

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