Atop our Fridge

Atop our fridge sits a handful of cherished trinkets that my lover and I have collected from our fleeting time spent living together—some dead moths and feathers huddled in a cracked bowl, flowers he brought home on a random night that now hang dry with pride on the wall, a handmade ashtray lullabying "ghar ke liye" ("for home"), and a broken yet lovingly glued whistling bird, love flowing from every orifice.

The second picture was taken in an auto on the way to the tattoo studio with a dear friend of mine. Anything resembling a heart has always caught my wandering eye, and this was no exception—a moment brimming with love. Love for her and me, and my short-lived need for a thrill in capturing an ephemeral time mark in this punctuated life where I nurture and grow my love.

On bustling Church Street, I recall the last photo being taken in a few seconds of ecstatic churning—a vendor selling those glimmering balloons often seen in children's clasping, hopeful hands. Looking closely, I could make out two diagonal hearts near the bottom right side, with the flurry of love and light engulfing all those around.