But that's not how it works

Sometimes we just have to stand beside a certain person and get it. Get what? That feeling that is the moon. Or the heat from the sun. Or a three-beer buzz. Skin prickle. Calm and frenzy. All the feelings condensed into that thing you can't even mouth. You can only feel. When I was a little girl my grandmother's neighbor was named Hutch and he smelled like a pipe and wore enormous overalls and I loved him like a banjo sounds. I loved him like sticky pancake syrup and it was the first time I knew I could just stand by someone and get it.  All the feelings. I knew you could bask in someone else. People make my clock turn. My dials spin. My hope bellow. You are one of them. Sometimes if you're lucky you can have a few at once and walk down the street and really believe that we have a reason to be here. That the earth won’t spin so fast and we will remember who we are. Maybe I could take that energy and light up the city with it. Make a windmill. Power up and never fade away.