sleeves vs. bowls

I am out of cake flour but I am not even sure you like cake? You are across town, listening to the very same playlist and I am not sure you know it or would care. I want to know if you like cake and could I bake you the very kind that would show you love. You might like to walk to the store with me for cake flour because I am out and keep warm in a hat I have knitted for you. You would understand and know forever without reminder that me keeping you warm and free of hunger was such love that it could not go unknown.
Perhaps you are knowing, even now, this love I have for you? I am not sure but feel that the signs are there. Despite listening to the same music we are reading different pages of our scripts right now. Maybe time will take us to the same page. I miss you the most of so many things~more than the carrots from the box, the strawberries from the bottom of the barrel and even the smells and warmth of the bakery itself.
Give me some direction, please. Should I read slower or faster to get to that same page? Or just be me, going along waiting and hoping to run into you when I do find time for the trip to the store for cake flour and the hope of your smile.