Concrete Rose

I am not that little girl anymore

My body is fuller

My mind is wiser

And I've learned that time can be a reliable conduit

Under just right pretenses, of course. 

Lately, my head has become a campus of imagination

I am not upset with the dreariness of reality

Extending empathy during brief encounters with strangers 

I ask one for a cigarette 

"You don't look like the smoking type"

An excuse to bond.

I exchange a kind smile before taking a few steps away

Enough to create a safe distance

And the small talk keeps us company in this lonely city

We exchange causalities before resorting back into our own worlds

Except, my inner world is becoming romantic again

I now think up prettier versions of myself

Prettier settings

Prettier men

And somehow, 

time begins to soar.