A love

A love as warm as listening to jazz as you type away on the keyboards,

A love so fresh and exciting, like opening a book you’ve been waiting to read forever, after hearing everyone else speak about it, even Oprah! And finally…finally! Finally getting to read that first page.

A love as satisfying as a cup of cold glass water on a summer day, after being outside all day playing childhood games, running tirelessly around the same block that never got old. Love as satisfying as when that first sip hits your lips, and the first stream of liquid flows down your throat, quenching your thirst, as you let out a sigh of satisfaction.

A love that makes you feel grown. Like when you wore your first training bra on the first day of school in fifth grade, with only air and nipples to fill them. But, damn it you had a bra on like Arleen, and Arleen was grown. She had Fritz to prove it.

A love as beautiful as the love that your Barbie and Ken shared, before you got the Theresa doll, or w.e her name was, before her. That love story. The story of Barbie and Ken (my mother was/is not self-aware). Of two lovers, through whatever challenges or difficulties, shared a love that could not be broken.

That Kinda Love.

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