Grandma
Her warm face beckons,
As she flaunts a sweet smile;
I still remember,
She smelled like ponds and coffee;
I assume my love for caffeine is because of her.
Delicate, wrinkled hands clasping my face
And I can’t help but smile.
She places a dairy milk in my 7 year old palms,
As I kiss her cheek and run along.
Such a beautiful moment,
So surreal.
The memory is a wonder,
With how it adds layers to one flicker in time.
I know now,
If there exists a safe place,
It’s all in memories.
