photograph of a significant outfit.

This is the outfit I wore to my Grandmothers 100th birthday. I baked the family cake, usually made covered in m&m's for birthdays. I left it on the dashboard of my brother's car while we attempted to wake ourselves up with lattes in the early morning Florida soup. I shielded calls from my father, "WHERE ARE YOU!" while my brother cursed another driver as he sped out of the starbucks parkinglot. A scream, a giggle and a flying cake and I found myself draped in shards of chocolate and icing. Luckily, the cake being so moist, was pieced back together by my brothers while I freaked out in the middle of the street, "I am not walking into that room with all those women with that cake!" My grandmother loved it. Drizzled with her special thickened milk. She turned to my brother, chocolate coated tongue. "You look your age."

playground

A friend explains his courtship of a married woman.
"I am engaging her."
"What do you mean, engage?"
"Let's say that there is a flower. A beautiful flower. I walk by and engage it. I smell it. I engage it. Do I engage it on my own? The flower is beautiful. It wants to be looked at. It wants me to smell it. It wants to be engaged. It engages me. We engage each other."