I Still Have You in My Childhood

Some would tell you that heaven is an eternalized experience of your favorite child memory
If that’s the case
Mine is of a summery Sunday afternoon in my birthplace’s downtown streets
On a good day—when the breeze helps carry you further down the sidewalk—
the family diner that sells 99¢ ice cream cones is only 16 bike pedals away from the florist
(the only shop in the area that sells my favorite stuffed animals)
With each rotation of my bicycle pedals
little me’s brain thinks intently
he loves me
he loves me not
he loves me
he loves me not
all the while my head filled with thoughts of only you
still only you
So you’re in my heaven with me, and all of our childhood friends
pointing out our favorite stuffed animals in that sweet little flower shop where I first learned to love you
(I like the brown speckled dog)
And tomorrow evening, after chores, we’ll meet up and do it all again
and I’ll find that you bought me that puppy
Seamless stitching and eyes that glittered perhaps more than mine did in that moment
He’ll ride to the park with us and our friends, in my little bicycle basket
and with each pump of my pedals
I know
he loves me
he loves me
he loves me