Time Is Nothing

So I am bad, I haven't been blogging.
Call me a slacker or something, then slap me, I like it.
:P
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day wasn't clear, it was hazy-ish
but warm enough for me to lie in the park in my shirtsleeves
listening to old R & B, Diddy, Mase, Snoop

Beside me the Bee was engrossed in his book
while I lost myself in the waving branches of the tree that
shaded us,
I rolled about the grass, took pictures of me, of Bee, of us

I sang out loud, giggled, threw my legs up and over me
lay with my head downwards on the slope, blood rushing to my brain
scrutinised the daisies, let the sun beat down on my skin

And the Bee, through it all, ignored me
it was as though all that existed were him and the book
and then I sat up next to him, started reading over his shoulder
and then suddenly it was no longer warm and the wind blew
cold

the trees seemed to shiver and as I read, my eyes welled up
around me, everything seemed to slow down, tone down
the black labrador with its shiny coat, the children rolling
down the hill on their backs, the old couples ambling
its like they became a silent movie, black and white:
and the Bee, being too manly to cry only offered only the slightest tremble
while my disposition, within seconds, went from sunny, to dark

I sat beside him, still, quiet, upset
and then the Bee shut The Time Traveller's Wife with a snap
placed it in his jumper pocket, put his arm around me
and said "let's get out of here".