Little intimacies
Scattered around and throughout
Hiding in plain sight
Not waiting to be found
They sit on our nightstands
And lie in our purses
The way we like our coffee
The way we brush our hair
The laughter that rushes out of us
The handwriting left in our journals
Why we read a book
How we linger on someone’s words
How we love
Why we love
Is a person nothing more than all their little intimacies?
If a day is how we spend our lives
Then a little intimacy must be the essence of a person
To be kind
To be brave
They all matter so little
But how do you show kindness?
Why are you brave?
It is in the how and why
And hardly in the what is
It can’t be curated
The beauty lies in the unaware
A glimpse into who someone is
A golden string of music that falls into tune
Something so small
So intimate
That you do not see it until the chord is struck
And the music rushes in
11/12/2024