The Meadow 95 Fiori di Como Karley Pardue On our first date, you brought me to a casino. I didn’t know how to gamble with anything other than love. I want you to see this, you said. On the ceiling, bright glass beamed like your smile in shades of colors too deep for new beginnings. You shared a story about a field of wildflowers, a hot summer afternoon, and weakness; your hand was warm in mine. You waited for me to open up like a spring blossom. I never told you I didn’t see flowers above us that day, in the lobby where our story began, because I didn’t want to be the only one who imagined the sting of a sea of shimmering jellyfish, beautiful but dangerous.
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