"you guys are matchy-matchy."

sometimes em comes over.
just to make brownie batter and talk.
of course.
we're always talking.
about those little things.
big things, too.
but mostly those little things that make up life.
the prosaic, you know.
maps. quotes from tolstoy professors. chocolate chips.
rain. literature. chekhov.
and we eat the brownie batter.
on the kitchen floor, of course.
behind the counter.
because where else would you eat it?
and where else can you hide from the kidlets
who end up finding you anyway
and so you share of course.
because brownie batter is meant to be shared.
a little bit, anyway.

did i mention that we were matching today?
yeah. totally planned it (not).
but there seems to be this eerie telepathic connection
a kind of mother-daughter thing
where we wear the same things.
happens.

 emmers, i like you.
and brownies and maps with you.
refrigerator.

^^because haikus are my specialty. obviously.

some things are meant to be.

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what will i do when we're in different time zones? 

[don't want to think about it. so i won't. living in denial is always a good thing, right?]