He ripped my book out of my hands and inhaled deeply. “There’s nothing like that smell, is there?” he said and smiled. My mouth was hanging open and I tried to talk but stammered out “that’s my favorite” and grabbed my book back. He told me I looked like a bird. I stared at him with a mad curiosity and he said “you know like a tyenee frail bird,” in his French accent and smiled.
Later he told me how I made him feel the stars.
I looked up.
“Just like them, you see?”
and I watched them all spiraled together.
It just didn’t make any sense and the more I try to figure it out the more I can’t. There are just some people who make you feel deep. And you won’t ever see them coming.