You don’t notice the world when you’re talking.
When you remember the scene, you remember everything:
The temperature of the wind, the sounds of laughter,
The pebbles parting beneath your feet.
And parts in-between you paint into view,
Like the camera angles that would have captured you best,
The lingering shot on the moment they looked at you,
The song that should have been playing, just audible enough.
But at the time you lose yourself to the small things that you say;
The things that make you happy just being there.