passing iris

In my memory, forged in flower petals and the pigmented layers of umbrellas,

I think of you.

You aren't like my dear Ophelia,

Whom I speak to often.

No..

You've returned to my life and it's remarkable how the distance never changes.

We are still pigmented, together.

There is no lacking of kindness or joy, or simple hot chips shared

We could do it thousands of this times, this floating;

A feeling we are drawn to, when the world demands it of us.

Cooler seasons a chance to think of one another,

Fondness is absolute and isn't it just...remarkable!

The ease of the first glance,

Exact as the very first time.

No less, we ourselves have changed but not so much in the way we smile when we greet each other.

I find it thrilling to have that in another person, the reliable, the occasional.

Infrequent but consistent and beautifully so.

Treasured, my dear Iris.

Friends not so much in time spent together,

But what we do with the time we have.

Quality, however distant, however surprising;

Over the quantity of which we always believed we needed.

~