hello,

today i was reading some of my old poetry from high school, and i thought of you. i'm drawn to the lure of nostalgia, to the places i've been and lived. memory is love and love is memory and it is all love

i think often of the things that are love to me. like when my grandfather peels a tangerine and gives me the larger half. my grandmother painstakingly teaching me how to crochet. my mother sending me home with my suitcase full of toiletries. my friend sharing her favourite tube of mango lip balm. my partner bringing me a glass of water.

i started this in january thinking i had more to say, but yesterday i dreamed of meeting you. in my memory the sun was bright and fizzy, and you held my hand in yours. objects in the mirror are always closer than they appear

i love you. be well

love, a