amidst the bustling aromas and chatter of dishes, the crinkle of tightly held bags and the five hundred heels hitting the tiles in rapid disarray and the adrenaline of the power shop, and the exclamations of excitement and embraces and the faces of so many, and the voices of the ones you love and the ones you missed and the smile that won't go away and the joy locked fast in your heart there is a

pause.

and there is a mourning.

there is always one of these.
because i know that these little chinese hors d'oeuvres of joy, these camera flashes of treasured memory, these smiles of love, this laughter of companionship, these beautiful red and green keepsakes will disappear so very quickly.
because this perfection will dissipate.
because i can't bear it.
because of my hope that this
pause
is something like a photograph
that can not be smudged
a drawing that can not be
erased.

that i could keep this feeling even when it isn't real anymore
something like that.